<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>Disillusionment by tenacioussurrender</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27193138">Disillusionment</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/tenacioussurrender/pseuds/tenacioussurrender'>tenacioussurrender</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Umbrella Academy (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Abusive Reginald Hargreeves, Alive Ben Hargreeves, Alive Reginald Hargreeves, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Diego Hargreeves Needs A Hug, Diego Hargreeves is Bad at Feelings, Diego Hargreeves-centric, Gen, Hurt Diego Hargreeves, Hurt Number Five | The Boy, Kid Number Five | The Boy, Number Five | The Boy Has Issues, Number Five | The Boy Needs A Hug, Number Five | The Boy Whump, Protective Diego Hargreeves, Reginald Hargreeves' A+ Parenting, Soft Diego Hargreeves, Vigilante Diego Hargreeves, Young Number Five | The Boy, or are there?</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 16:27:44</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>44,190</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27193138</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/tenacioussurrender/pseuds/tenacioussurrender</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Diego has always been suspicious of his father, always thought he was up to something devious. But keeping some kid locked away in an abandoned building like an experiment? He's clearly reached a new low.</p><p> </p><p>or...Diego has been investigating his father's company for the past fourteen years. He finally catches his big break.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Number Five | The Boy &amp; Diego Hargreeves</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>388</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>558</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p>
  <b><em>"10 Reasons Why Sir Reginald Hargreeves is the Best Inventor of our Time"</em> </b>
</p><p>Diego rolls his eyes, dismissing the News notification and tossing his phone away. It hits the carpet with a thunk. He sighs, draping an arm across his eyes. The sun shines through the window above his bed, warmth combatting the chill of the fan. He focuses on the ambience of the sound of the blades circling. He feels himself drifting back to sleep. The sound of a knock on the door jolts him from his dream-like state. He grumbles, pushing himself up and off the bed. He grabs a pair of pants that hang over his chair and pulls them on. There’s another knock on the door, this time louder and more desperate. </p><p>“Can you calm the fuck down?” He growls under his breath, pulling on a shirt he’d found on the ground. </p><p>He quickly searches for his phone, eyes scanning the carpet. He drops to his knees, checking under the bed. He spots it and has to halfway crawl to reach it. He pockets the device and heads out of his room. There’s more knocking, this time much longer than last. He curses, half-jogging to the door. He unlocks it and rips it open. His vision immediately goes black as he’s hit with something. A shirt falls into his arms and he blinks at the person in front of him. The woman is holding a box in her arms and looks particularly pissed the fuck off.</p><p>“Oh, hi. I kinda thought you were a cop.” He chuckles, running a hand through his mussed hair.</p><p>“ ‘Oh, hi’? That’s it?” The woman questions, angrily tossing another shirt at him.</p><p>“What the hell, Lisa?” He sputters as the shirt falls to the ground. “Why are you throwing shit at me?” </p><p>He manages to catch the next one before it hits his face.</p><p>“It’s your shit, bastard. You’d know if you could answer your fucking phone that I had a shitty week. But no, you can’t bother to take five seconds out of your day to even text me that you’re still alive. You clearly don’t give a shit about this relationship or me, so I’m done.” Lisa says with a humorless chuckle.</p><p>“Wait-wait,” Diego starts, raising his hands placatingly. “I don’t understand.”</p><p>She drops the box from her arms. It slams on the ground, something glass shattering.</p><p>“Fuck you, asshole.” </p><p>She flicks him off and stomps away. Diego sticks his head all the way out of the door, checking to see if there are any onlookers. He shrugs once he’s sure there’s no one around and drags the box inside. He shuts and locks the door behind himself.</p><p>“Welp, that didn’t go quite as planned.” He mumbles to himself, yawning as he heads to the kitchen. </p><p>There’s a mess of dirty dishes in the sink and old takeout boxes on the counter. He ignores the clutter, pushing dishes aside to stick his head under the faucet and drink tap water. He pulls away, turning off the water and rubbing his mouth with the back of his hand. He scratches at his stubble and reaches out to the knife block, pulling out the largest one. He tests it with a swish and smirks at the sound it makes in the air. He heads out of the kitchen, sliding in his socks across the living room floor as he passes through. He stops in front of the bathroom, standing on his tiptoes to reach the key resting on the molding above the door. He unlocks the door and pushes it open. He smiles down at his guest who’s sitting on the tile against the tub with their hands cuffed. </p><p>“So, we ready to have a conversation now? Or are you planning to continue being difficult like you were last night?” Diego questions, twisting the knife in the air as more of an empty threat than anything else.</p><p>“I-I don’t know anything, please, I have a wife and two children.” The man blubbers, crocodile tears filling his eyes.</p><p>“That’s funny. You said the same thing last night. But, here’s the problem, Henry,” Diego snarls, lowering into a crouch in front of the man. “You are one of the top scientists at Hargreeves Tech, I know you help manufacture that weird serum shit and I know you worked with the monkey experiments.”</p><p>“Apes.” The man corrects, but immediately regrets it at the look in Diego’s eyes.</p><p>He flinches backwards as Diego shuffles closer.</p><p>“I’m not playing games anymore.” Diego growls, raising the knife.</p><p>“Wait wait wait!” Henry stutters, holding out his hands in front of him.</p><p>Diego arches his brow, waving the knife around, motioning for the man to continue speaking.</p><p>“I-I know something. A secret lab. Only a few of us know about it. No one knows the location, but...” The man trails off, eyes flickering between Diego’s intense ones.</p><p>“But?” Diego questions, moving the knife flush against the man’s neck.</p><p>“B-but,” Henry starts with a gulp. “I figured it out.”</p><p>“That’s my man, Henry.” Diego chuckles, patting the man on the shoulder. “I’m going to uncuff you and you’re going to put the coordinates in my phone. Any funny business and those two kids of yours won’t have a daddy anymore. Understood?”</p><p>The man shakily nods, letting out a sigh of relief as Diego lowers the knife to the floor behind himself. He pulls the key from his pocket and easily unlocks the cuffs, tossing them across the floor. Henry rubs his red wrists, warily watching Diego as he fishes his phone out of his pocket. He hands the device over and Henry quickly types in the coordinates, glancing between the phone and Diego so many times that Diego wants to cut him just for that. </p><p>“Are you going to tell anyone about this?” Diego questions, taking the phone back.</p><p>“N-no, they’d kill me for telling you.”</p><p>“And I’d kill you for telling them.” Diego adds with a predatory smile. “Just remember that when you safely get home to your family, okay?” </p><p>Diego plasters a fake smile on his face as he grabs the man’s shirt at his shoulder, hefting him up. He drags him to the front door. </p><p>“Pleasure doing business with you.” He says with a wink, opening the door and shoving Henry out. </p><p>He slams the door shut and locks it back. He whistles as he returns to his bathroom, stripping along the way, tossing his shirt over his shoulder, kicking his socks off, and jumping out of his pants. He steps onto tile and looks up at himself in the mirror. His hair is long and shaggy and he has stubble growing along his jawline and above his lip. He’s not one to admit when he looks like shit, but he looks like shit. He shrugs, he could care less if he looks like shit because he just got his big break. He drops his boxers, and steps into the bathtub. He flicks the water on. His heart races when the cold water makes contact with his skin. Goosebumps litter his skin and his teeth chatter as he reaches for the shampoo. He runs his fingers through his hair, shutting his eyes against the icy water. After all these years, all the relationships he’s let pass him by, he might finally figure it out. </p><p>
  <em> “You clearly don’t give a shit about this relationship or me, so I’m done.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “This thing with your father...Diego, you’re obsessed, you need help.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “As your boss, you should consider seeking help, Diego, you’re slipping.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “I’m sorry, but we’ve decided to go with someone else for the open officer position.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “Fuck you Diego, you think you’re so much better than us, but you’re not. Just look at you, making up all this crazy shit about Dad. For what?” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “You’re one of my greatest failures, too absorbed with your own self importance to ever accomplish anything truly great.” </em>
</p><p>Diego’s eyes rip open, his hand clenching his chest. He reaches out with his other to shut off the water, his breath turning panicked. His face is still soapy, his eyes burning with the remnants. He pushes the curtain aside and grabs a towel. He shoves his face into it, sucking in a deep breath. He chokes out a half sob into the towel as his body shivers. He counts down from ten and roughly wipes his face. His expression turns blank. </p><p>“They were wrong.” He mutters to himself as he leaves the bathroom. “And I’m about to fucking prove it.”</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Diego stands in his living room, eyes scanning the evidence scattered on the wall. There’s red string connecting certain pieces together and there’s a name written in the middle of it all: Reginald Hargreeves. </p><p>His father has always been strange. He'd adopted six children and yet he'd seemingly hated them. He'd always complained that they weren't smart enough, strong enough, that they were too weak willed. Sometimes the things he complained about were strange, confusing. It had always almost seemed as if they were test subjects. He was so interested in their behaviors, human behaviors, that he and his siblings had once joked that their father probably wasn't human at all. He'd watch the way they ate, watched the way they played. Even when they'd get in trouble, it was like he tried out different punishments just to see how they'd react.</p><p>Diego has always hated his father. His stiff coldness. His sheer indifference towards the children he chose to adopt. He was a terrible father, putting them in harm's way more often than not. But he is and always has been a rich, dangerous man. He owns one of the world's leading technology companies, Hargreeves Tech. So Diego and his siblings did the only thing they safely could do, they waited until they were eighteen and then they split. They all went their separate ways, hatred of their father weaving into hatred of each other. </p><p>Diego, he'd always felt like he had something more to offer. Like there was some way he could make up for all the evil his father had spread through the world. He wasn't an idiot, he knew the shady dealings going on behind closed doors, knew the kind of technological warfare his father had likely contributed to. </p><p>Soon after leaving home, Diego turned to a life that would definitely have his mother rolling over in her grave. He'd watched the police department fail too many times, watched them ignore their cries for help when they were children. He’d applied, hoping he could fix the system from within, but they denied him. Vigilantism was his only option. If you couldn't count on the police, then who could you count on? He spent many years cleaning up petty crime, stopping burglaries, drowning rapists and pedophiles in their own blood. Standard things. But on the side, he'd also been investigating his father's company. It'd been out of the light for the past few years, quiet. He’s learned since a very young age that a quiet Reginald Hargreeves is a dangerous Reginald Hargreeves. He knows he's close to figuring it out, close to unraveling this giant case he's dedicated fourteen years of his life to.</p><p>He blinks away from the amalgamation of evidence, realizing he’s still incredibly tired. He’d stayed up late last night interrogating that bastard and before that he’d had a long shift at work, cleaning up after a showing between two hotshot boxers at Al’s gym. Fuck people and their inability to clean up after themselves, he thinks as he shoves an empty water bottle off the couch. He plops down onto it. He’s planning to wait for nightfall to investigate the secret lab, he’s not stupid enough to attempt something during the day. This means he’s got hours to waste, especially since Al gave him the day off for working so many hours yesterday, so he snuggles into the couch intent on doing some serious napping. </p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Diego wakes with a jolt to the sound of his alarm clock going off. His heart is racing in his chest, his breathing sharp. He’s been having the same recurring nightmare for years now. One second he’s standing on the ground. The next he’s falling down a dark hole, staring up at a boy that’s screaming. He’s reaching for the boy but he only sinks lower. His father’s face suddenly appears next to the child, a chilling smile with all his teeth pulling at his face. Diego always braces himself in the dreams, but as soon as he knows he’s about to impact, he wakes with his heart in his throat. </p><p>He shakes off the uncomfortable feeling, holding his phone in front of his face to check the time. <em> 10:02 pm. </em>The location Henry had put into his phone is around a four hour drive away which means Diego needs to get moving if he wants to be back before the sun rises. He forces himself up, slips on some shoes, grabs a monster and his favorite knife, and heads out.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>He’s getting close, about thirty minutes away, and starting to feel jittery. He chalks it out to the energy drink, but secretly knows he’s really just nervous. He’s had leads like this before, moments when he’d thought he was so close to unraveling the whole thing to only have to start over once again. But something about this time feels different, it feels real. </p><p>He tries to focus on the music instead of the anxiety coiling in his stomach. He hopes the lab isn’t the type to have security. </p><p>“Or cameras.” He adds aloud.</p><p>He moans, fingers tightening around the wheel, as he realizes he didn’t quite think this through as much as he’d thought he did. But maybe, he’d get lucky. Maybe his father is dumber than he seems and for some reason kept his most secret lab completely unguarded at two a.m. in the morning. He rolls his eyes at his own idiocy. He’s lucky he has extra knives in the car, maybe he can take the cameras out from afar. He’s got impeccable aim. </p><p>The coordinates lead to the middle of the forest, which isn’t ominous at all. He parks his car on the side of the road. According to his phone he’s about two miles out, which for him means a thirty-ish minute walk. Which is fine, but through the woods in the dark? He’s aiming for a twenty minute brisk walk. He pulls his other knives out of the glove box, sliding one in each of his socks. He shoves another in the waistband of his pants. </p><p>He sighs as he steps out of the car and into the chilly air. It’s silent, save for the sounds of chirping bugs. He elects to not lock his car out of fear of bringing attention to himself. He’s not sure if he’s more worried about a person finding him or a bear. At that thought, he picks up the pace. </p><p>Contrary to horror films, he’d been smart and downloaded the map ahead of time to prevent himself from getting lost, which would really suck. </p><p>After two miles of very very brisk walking through the woods, he comes across a field with a building in the middle of it. There’s tall grass surrounding it and a driveway...which he’s now realizing might have been the better option than walking two miles but whatever, discretion is more important.</p><p>He ducks in the tall, dark grass. The night is silent, stars twinkling down at him. He pulls his knife from his waistband, holding it tight in his fist, coiled like a snake ready to strike. The cool breeze runs its tendrils through his hair. There it is, he thinks. The building he'd finally uncovered after fourteen years. He’d have never found this place without Henry. </p><p>He feels anxiety bubble in his chest the closer he gets. He still doesn't know what his father is up to, just knows it's something incredibly shady. Some sort of experimentation. He doesn't know what he'll do if he stumbles across a pile of dead bodies. He sucks in a deep breath, and scans the exterior of the building. There’s surprisingly no cameras, which is more suspicious than it is a relief. His eyes search through his surroundings that are only illuminated by the moonlight. There’s no cars in the driveway, no lights, no cameras. He shivers as he steps out of the grass and towards a window. The building is deceptively small. The inside, from what he can see, looks clinical, like a clean office. He hums, walking around the building, nothing strange. No obvious traps.</p><p>No one appears to have even been here recently, no tracks. Maybe Henry had lied and sent him to a long abandoned building owned by his father. He supposes it’s time to find out. He twists his knife in his hand and slams the butt of it against the window. It shatters. He cringes at the noise, glancing behind himself into the darkness. He turns back, using his knife to clear the jagged edges of glass from the window. He pulls himself up and into the building. He lands on the floor, eyes scanning the room. It's...normal looking. Looks just like a normal business building.</p><p><em> If it was a normal business building it wouldn't be hidden in the middle of nowhere. </em>His mind reminds him.</p><p>He walks over to the desk in the corner of the room. The top is clear, untouched. He opens the drawers. Nothing. It's as if no one had ever even been here. He walks around the room searching for something, anything out of place. He's about to give up, moving back towards the window when the floorboard below him creaks. He wouldn't normally question a floorboard, but he remembers as a child stumbling across their father pulling up a floorboard in his study, uncovering a safe. He'd been beaten for being nosey, but now it has a smirk growing on his face. He steps to the right, leans down and uses his knife to pull the wood up. The floorboard is attached to many others on the floor. As he yanks, it pulls up about ten more along with it. It bangs on the floor as he drops it backwards. There's a latch revealed. </p><p>"So predictable." He tuts, hand grasping the metal.</p><p>He pulls, muscles contracting as the heavy door gives way. A set of stairs are exposed and a bright light kicks on, illuminating his path. He checks behind himself once again before holding his knife out in front of him and stepping down. </p><p>Reaching the bottom of the staircase, he peers around. The basement expands much farther than the floor above it. He’s entered a wide, open room. There’s multiple examination tables in the room, trays of tools everywhere. There’s cabinets along the wall, rows and rows of vials in what looks like a glass refrigerator. He whistles, scanning the room. There’s a door at the opposite end. He glances up at the stairs before heading to the doorway. He opens the metal door, revealing a hallway. There’s rows of more metal doors on both sides of him, the ones he can see are open. He peers inside the first one, the words “Experiment No. 1” are printed on the door. It looks like a containment room, a cage. He wonders if Reginald kept his chimpanzees here. He gulps as his eyes catch on the chains on the floor. His father is a truly evil man.</p><p>He steps out of the room, continuing down the hall. He passes Experiment No. 2 on his right, Experiment No. 9 on his left. He walks past the open doors, his shoes echoing against the floor. The last door on the right is closed. He steps up to it, reading “Experiment No. 5.” He gulps and reaches out. He clasps his hand around cool metal. The door doesn’t open, it’s locked.</p><p>“Shit,” He whispers to himself, glancing down the hall to where he’d come from. </p><p>He turns his attention back to his task at hand, bringing his knife to the junction in between the door and quickly starting to jimmy it. At no luck, he pulls out the lock picking kit he keeps on himself at all times. He kneels in front of the door and makes quick work of unlocking it. At the sound he oh so loves to hear, he shoves his kit back into his jacket pocket. He steels himself, preparing his knife to strike, as he opens the door.  </p><p>The light in the room flickers on and he reels backwards, gasping at the sight before him. There’s a child at the end of the room, arms extended from chains connected to the ceiling. His head is hanging, hair covering half of his face and there’s a gag around his mouth. He looks dead.</p><p>“Holy fuck.” Diego curses, a hand coming up to cover his mouth. </p><p>He knew his father was involved in something messed up, but this? He curses under his breath as he slowly steps up to the child. With a heavy sigh of relief, he notices the boy’s chest rising and falling. In fact, by the way his arms are trembling, Diego thinks he must be fully conscious. He reaches out and pulls the gag down from around the boy’s mouth.</p><p>"It’s gonna be okay." He promises, glancing up at the boy’s cuffed hands.</p><p>They’re strange, unlike anything he’s ever seen. The cuffs appear to be almost like metal gloves. He reaches out for one of them. </p><p>The boy twists ferociously, mouth latching onto Diego's arm and teeth biting down. Diego rips his arm back with a grunt. There are teeth marks on his arm and droplets of blood rising. </p><p>"Fuck, I hope you don't have radioactive spit." He mumbles to himself, gripping his arm for a moment. </p><p>"I'm trying to help you." He says, reaching out for the boy's hand again.</p><p>"Maybe I don't need your help." The child snarls, attempting to pull his hand away but failing.</p><p>Diego quirks an eyebrow. </p><p>"Fine." He says, throwing up his hands and turning around.</p><p>He's just pretending, hoping the child will decide he does in fact want help. The cry behind him makes his heart clench. He twists back around, the boy's face now drawn in open terror.</p><p>"Please don't leave me." He begs, attitude forsaken for fidgety nervousness.</p><p>"I'm not going to leave you." Diego promises, stepping back up and reaching for the boy's hand.</p><p>The child doesn't move, just watches Diego with piercing eyes. It takes Diego a moment to understand how the cuffs work, but once he does, he makes quick work of the first one. The boy hisses as his first hand drops down to his side. Diego offers his arm for the kid to use as leverage so his body weight doesn’t pull too much on his other arm. The child warily accepts, small hand tangling in Diego’s sleeve. He removes the other cuff and the boy falls to the ground, almost ripping Diego’s arm out of his socket. He bends down next to the kid, deciding to give him a moment despite the voice screaming in his head to get the hell out. </p><p>Suddenly, as if the universe had read his mind, an alarm starts to blare. </p><p>“Oh, shit.” He mumbles, pulling the boy up with him as he stands. </p><p>“We-we have to go.” He says, an arm wrapping around the child as he starts out of the room. </p><p>They walk down the hallway, red lights blinking along with the screaming of the alarm.</p><p>“W-wait. I need a second.” The kid whispers, the hand tightening in Diego’s shirt bringing them to a stop. </p><p>He slips out from Diego’s grasp and starts to rub his raw wrists.</p><p>“We have to go, kid!” Diego whisper-shouts, twisting away from the boy to glance at the doorway. </p><p>No one’s here yet, but they will be soon. He turns. The kid’s gone. </p><p>“Kid?” He questions, glancing in the two open rooms next to him. </p><p>He repeats the question more urgently, stalking back down the hall to look in each room. They’re all empty. </p><p>“Shit, shit, shit.” He curses, hand reaching up to grip his hair. </p><p>He checks the rooms once more. Maybe the boy had somehow gotten around him and is outside the hall? He quickly leaves, entering the main room which is also empty. </p><p>
  <em> Fuck. </em>
</p><p>He climbs the stairs, no child on the top floor either. </p><p>“Kid!” He shouts as he closes the entrance to the basement. </p><p>No response. His breath turns panicked as he takes one last look around the small room, hoping the kid will pop out. When he doesn’t, Diego hesitantly climbs back out the window, dropping to the ground. He immediately rolls into the tall grass. There’s car lights in the driveway. </p><p>
  <em> Oh, fuck.  </em>
</p><p>He tries to scan his surroundings, tries to look through the grass, to see if he can find the child anywhere. His voice is a whisper as he calls for the boy, but nothing. He can hear car doors open. He does the only thing he can do, regardless of the sick feeling it leaves behind, and he runs. </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Diego falls against the driver’s side door, panting as his fingers search for the handle. Jolting at the sudden sound of thunder booming through the forest, he scrambles into the car, falling heavily into the seat. He slams the door shut behind himself, wasting no time in shoving the keys into the ignition. Rain starts to pour as curses fall from his lips. He starts the car, glancing into his mirrors before edging back onto the road. </p><p>The wipers screech against the windshield. His fingers are white where they clench the steering wheel. There was a child, a fucking child locked away like an experiment in his father’s secret lab and he’d let it out. What if it wasn’t actually human, what if he’d just let a monster out of its cage? Or worse...what if it is just a helpless child that’s now alone in a dark storm? He can’t go to the police, Reginald basically owns them. He can’t go back, the place will be crawling with cronies now, likely searching the woods for a missing child or the person who let them out. He tries to slow his breathing as he forces himself to pay attention to the road and only the road. </p><p>A bright flash of lightning illuminates the sky. He flinches as he notices something in his peripheral. He slowly reaches up, adjusting the rearview mirror. At the sight of what has appeared in his backseat, he slams on the brakes. The car hydroplanes against the road, swerving as he attempts to remain in control of the vehicle. It finally stops sharply on the wet gravel, halfway on the road halfway off. His head bangs back against the seat at the sudden halt.</p><p>“How the hell did you get in here?!” He shouts as he twists in his seat. </p><p>The child from the laboratory is seated in his backseat, soaked to the bone. The boy looks up at him as if just noticing his presence. </p><p>“You should keep moving,” The boy starts, nonchalantly glancing away from Diego to gaze outside of the window next to him. “They’re gonna be coming after us.” </p><p>And much as Diego absolutely abhors the idea of continuing to drive with his new potentially dangerous passenger in the seat behind him, the potentially dangerous passenger has a good point. Diego sets his foot on the gas, slowly pulling the car back fully onto the road. </p><p>“How did you get in here?” He asks again, this time minutely calmer as he glances between the windshield and the rearview mirror. </p><p>“I teleported with my alien powers.” The boy answers simply, smiling sharply and staring up at the mirror. </p><p>Diego chuckles humorlessly.</p><p>“I have half a mind to drop you off on the side of the road here. You’re a stranger for all intents and purposes.”</p><p>“Yes, a stranger who you just let out of a laboratory. I could be some sort of monster don’t you think? Maybe a Frankenstein?”</p><p>Now, Diego is wondering if the boy simply read his mind. Maybe he is an alien after all. Maybe that's why Reginald had been experimenting on him.</p><p>“Why were you in there?” Diego bluntly questions, shivering against the cold air rotating through the car.</p><p>When he receives no response, he checks the mirror. The boy’s asleep, or at least pretending to be asleep, against the window. Diego gulps, turning his attention back to the road. </p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Diego pulls into a parking spot at his apartment complex. As he glances into his mirror, he’s once again thankful to no longer be living in the boiler room at Al’s gym. The boy hadn’t twitched the entire drive, he’d been fast asleep the whole time, even when his head had roughly jostled against the window after some particularly rough bumps. </p><p>“Kid?” Diego calls, twisting in his seat to get a better look at his passenger. </p><p>He watches the boy’s chest slowly rise and fall. He looks incredibly small and... human. There’s goosebumps on his arms, he’s likely cold from the rainwater still permeating his clothes, which now that Diego’s getting a closer look, appear to be no more than a hospital gown. </p><p>“Hey…” Diego whispers, reaching his hand out to touch the boy’s shoulder.</p><p>The moment his finger makes contact, the child’s eyes rip open and he pulls himself away from Diego as if he’d been electrified. His breathing is sharp and panicked as his eyes flicker around the car. Diego folds himself back completely into the driver’s seat.</p><p>“Is there somewhere I can take you?” He asks, looking away from the boy in an attempt to calm him.</p><p>“N-no.” The kid croaks, crossing his arms over his chest. </p><p>Green eyes flicker around the car, landing everywhere but on the man in the front seat.</p><p>“No?” Diego repeats, hand already reaching for the keys.</p><p>“I have nowhere to go.”</p><p>With that, Diego shuts off the car.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>“So...uh-you can sleep on the couch tonight.” Diego offers, motioning to the piece of furniture in the middle of the living room.</p><p>The boy silently follows him into the space, his eyes cataloging the apartment. Diego glances over at him, noticing the wet footprints he’s leaving behind himself.</p><p>“Let me go grab you some clothes.”</p><p>He takes one last look at the child before leaving the room. He shuts his bedroom door behind himself and stalks over to his bed. He picks up a pillow and shoves his face in it, shouting all the curse words he can think of. </p><p>“I have a kid in my fucking house,” He mutters as he drops the pillow. “A kid I fucking stole from my fucking psycho father’s fucking secret lab.”</p><p>He starts to pace the floor, trying to put together some sort of plan, trying to figure out where the hell to go from here. Should he just hope that the police won’t hand the kid back over to his father? Should he leave the country, flee to another continent and give the kid to the police there? He fishes his phone out of his pocket and opens his contacts. His finger hovers over a contact name.</p><p>
  <em> Ben Hargreeves. </em>
</p><p>Ben’s the smartest of the siblings, and arguably the kindest, maybe he’d know what to do in this situation? </p><p>
  <em> The notebook was passed around the table to each sibling. Klaus, Ben, and Vanya silently read it and slid it across to the next sibling. Allison had made it through a single page before she angrily huffed and slammed it against the table. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “Diego, you’re seventeen now.” She hisses, voice low and sharp. “Maybe the whole conspiracy shit was funny for you when we were younger, but you’re almost an adult now. Maybe you should start acting like one.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “Oh, that’s rich coming from you, Allison.” Diego mutters, rolling his eyes and already moving to stand from the table. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “Fuck you Diego, you think you’re so much better than us, but you’re not.” Luther snarls, reaching across the table to snatch the notebook. “Just look at you, making up all this crazy shit about Dad. For what?” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Luther opens to the middle of the book and starts to rip pages from it. Diego yelps, flinging himself across the table towards his brother. Luther tosses the book across the room and folds his arms across his chest, glaring at Diego who’s heavily breathing and still straining across the table. Diego glances over at Klaus, Ben, and Vanya. They all remain silent. Ben has the decency to look remorseful. He straightens himself, almost falling out of his chair. His stature sharpens as he leaves the table to retrieve his destroyed evidence. His fingers tightly grip the book as he leaves the room, tears gathering in his eyes.  </em>
</p><p>Diego blinks out of the memory, his finger still hovering over the phone screen. He locks the phone instead with a click, shoving it back into his pocket. With a sigh, he reaches up to rub at the headache steadily forming. He steps over to his dresser, opening the drawers and rifling through them. He decides on a plain white t-shirt and black pajama pants. He flings both over his shoulder and heads over to the bedroom door, opening it. He stops short, halfway stepping into the living room. </p><p>The boy is curled up into the couch and by all appearances, once again asleep. </p><p>“My couch.” Diego moans lowly, eyes catching on the fabric still wetly sticking to the child’s small frame. </p><p>He sighs, heading to the bathroom to retrieve a towel. He returns, standing over the couch. Diego watches the boy for a moment, his face is halfway shoved into the cushions. He shivers even through his sleep. Diego gulps, gently laying the towel over the child. He’s so far out of his depth, he thinks, as he lowers the clothes onto the coffee table. He glances back over at his guest. </p><p>It’s one thing to rescue a child, it’s another entirely to bring one back home with him. He’s not experienced with children nor did he ever plan to be. It’s not that he hates children, more so that he’s afraid of them. Looking at the boy on his couch, he’s stricken with a deep fear woven with uncertainty. </p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <em> He can feel the sharp sting of betrayal imbedding into his lungs. He’s ripped up from the ground and thrown into a tree. The breath is knocked out of him as his back impacts. He cries out as his arms are pulled outwards away from his body that is pinned to the tree with an invisible force. He blinks one eye languidly, the other is sealed shut by what he realizes is blood. The smell is overwhelming and at the itchy feeling above his lip, he considers that his nose might be broken. The veins in his neck strain as his head is forced further back towards the tree. He can no longer see the three people that had been standing before him, but he can feel someone approaching. He tries to open his mouth to speak but the pressure pushing against him forces him to remain silent.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “I’m sorry.”  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> The whispered words reach his ears and he desperately tries to move to no avail. A hand slams down onto his chest, a scream echoes through the air, and he feels himself falling. He can’t breathe, can’t feel his heart beating as he descends backwards down a hole of darkness. The sky above him slowly disappears, the face of a child and the face of his father being sucked into nothingness. Diego’s hands reach out none-the-less, a guttural noise finally escaping him.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> He’s collapsing downwards, a rainbow of lights suddenly flickering through the blanket of blackness. He glances down, and can see the floor quickly approaching. He sucks in a deep breath and braces.  </em>
</p><p>“Shit!” Diego shouts as he scrambles up from his mattress.</p><p>His heart is beating out of his chest. The boy is standing at the end of his bed, staring at him.</p><p>“What-” Diego starts, taking a shuddering breath. “How-how the hell did you get in here? I...I locked the door.”</p><p>The boy shrugs.</p><p>“You were screaming.” </p><p>Diego inhales sharply, watching the boy as intently as he himself is being watched. The child is now wearing Diego’s clothes which are clearly far too big for him and his hair is wet as if he’d helped himself to Diego’s shower. </p><p>“Can...can you get out?” Diego mumbles, rubbing his face with his hands. He lowers them to add a “please” but the boy is already gone. The door is still shut, Diego’s mouth drops as his eyes flicker around the room, half expecting the child to be hidden in plain sight. </p><p>He shoves himself out of the bed, staggering over to the door and reaching out. Only upon a failed attempt of opening the door does he notice it’s still locked. </p><p>“What the hell?” He grumbles to himself as he unlocks the door and pushes it open. </p><p>The boy looks up from where he’s now seated on the couch. </p><p>“The hell?” Diego questions, his eyes flickering around his now apparently clean apartment. </p><p>His eyes finally settle on the coffee table where papers are spread out. He glances up at the child who’s still steadily staring at him. Diego steps forward, stopping in front of the table. His eyebrows pinch together as he crouches down to get a better look. The papers scattered on the table are his mish-mash of evidence that he’d thought he’d destroyed the day before. He momentarily glimpses up at the boy who’s watching him and then back down to his papers. They are all meticulously put back together, even the tiniest flecks of paper are taped back into their rightful place. Diego stands, thoroughly impressed. </p><p>“You’re not a normal kid, are you?” </p><p>The kid smiles in response. </p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><hr/><p> </p><p>Diego stands in front of the stove in his now clean kitchen. He’s making grilled cheese for himself and his guest, his guest who is currently hovering behind him. </p><p>“So you wanna tell me why you cleaned my apartment and put my papers back together?” Diego asks, keeping himself facing away from the boy as he flips the first grilled cheese. </p><p>“A thank you for your hospitality.” The child says simply. </p><p>Diego glances over his shoulder. His guest is leaning back against the counter and watching him curiously. </p><p>“That’s not necessary.” Diego whispers, moving the sandwich to a plate. </p><p>He turns, offering the food out to the boy. The kid stares at him for a moment longer before reaching out to accept the offering. </p><p>“What’s your name?” Diego asks, watching the boy for a moment longer, before turning to tend to his next sandwich.</p><p>“Five.”</p><p>Diego quirks an eyebrow at that as he drops butter onto the pan. It sizzles. </p><p>“No, your name.” He repeats, quickly looking over his shoulder. </p><p>“Five.” The boy says once more around his mouthful of sandwich. </p><p>Diego cringes at that, returning his attention to the stove. He drops the sandwich onto the pan. He suddenly remembers the words on the doors.</p><p>
  <em> Experiment No. 5. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Jesus, Dad is the devil. </em>
</p><p>He gulps, flipping the grilled cheese. </p><p>“Uh-how...how long were you-”</p><p>“As long as I can remember.” The boy, Five, answers easily. </p><p>Diego is silent as he turns off the stovetop and scoops his sandwich onto another plate. He turns back to face the boy.</p><p>“It’s not always the lab,” Five adds between chewing. He scans Diego’s face as he says, “I’m usually at the-the Academy.”</p><p>“The Academy?” Diego repeats, holding the warm plate close to his chest.</p><p>He remembers his mother telling him how he and his siblings had arrived at the Umbrella Academy house when they were around four and five. He’d been five. Diego, Luther, and Allison were the oldest of the bunch. Their mother hadn’t told them much about their adoptions, like why a man who hates children chose to adopt them, and them specifically but Diego always had his suspicions. </p><p>“You used to be there too, didn’t you?”</p><p>Diego blinks at the boy. </p><p>“How’d you know that?” He questions, eyebrows scrunching together.</p><p>“I-uh-I read your papers. The one...it was a picture of you and some other people in the Academy, wasn’t it?”</p><p>“My siblings.” Diego corrects, picking up his sandwich and taking a bite. </p><p>He watches as Five’s mouth opens to ask another question. Suddenly, the front door is busted down. His plate drops from his hands, glass exploding as it makes contact with the floor. A wave of heavily armored police enter the apartment, guns held steadily as they step into the kitchen. Diego throws his hands up, glancing over at the boy who slowly sets his plate on the counter and raises his hands as well.</p><p>“Officers, what’s going on?” Diego shakily asks, heart beating in his chest. </p><p>His arms shake above his head, his fingers twitching. The knife block is on the counter closest to Five, there’s no way he can reach it nor would it even matter. Diego might have the dexterity for a gunfight with one gun but eight? He lowers his shoulders, already accepting defeat. The police slowly filter into the room, one steadily approaching Diego. The officer lowers his gun, roughly patting him down. Out of the corner of his eye, he can see them doing the same thing to the kid. </p><p>“Officer, what’s going on?” Diego repeats his earlier question.</p><p>The man in front of him straightens and in one rough move twists Diego and knees him, shoving him to the floor. Diego moans as his face is slammed against the ground, he can feel glass piercing him. His face is pushed further into the floor and forced to face away from Five who’s now also being shoved around. </p><p>“What’s going on? Please?” Diego begs, struggling against the knee heavily resting in the middle of his back. </p><p>He’s once again refused an answer, the sounds of grunts greeting him instead. </p><p>“Five?” He questions, attempting to move his head. </p><p>A hand on his face keeps him in place.</p><p>“I’m fine.” He hears the boy grumble as another voice cries out. </p><p>There’s a flourish of activity happening to Diego’s right and he can feel the officer above him lessening his hold. With that, he slams his body upwards taking the man off guard. The officer falls backwards, gun rolling out of reach. Diego jumps up, quickly glancing around. The rest of the officers are gone, disappeared entirely. Five is standing alone, breathing heavily with sweat rolling down his face. His bright green eyes catch Diego’s, a hint of something settling there. </p><p>“What the hell?” Diego curses, eyes flickering back down to the last remaining officer.</p><p>The boy starts towards the man, but the cop scrambles up before he can reach him, running out of the door. Diego stands stock still watching as Five reaches down, picking up the gun.</p><p>“What the fuck just happened?” Diego questions, eyes flickering between the boy’s face and the gun in his hands.</p><p>“We have to go.” The boy whispers, staring down at the item in his hands.</p><p>His finger runs down the length of the pistol. Diego takes it from his hands, turning the safety on, and shoving it into his waistband. Diego pushes the boy against the counter, hands holding his shoulders.</p><p>“What are you?” He asks sharply, eyes searching the boy’s own.</p><p>Five shrugs, staring up at Diego with the same intensity. </p><p>“More will come. We should go.” The boy says with a tight lipped smile. </p><p>Diego steps back, shaking his head. His eyes flicker around the room, from the glass covering the floor to the broken down front door. He reaches up to massage the bridge of his nose.</p><p>“What have I fucking done?” He mumbles under his breath.</p><p>“Please, Diego.”</p><p>He drops his hand, turning to face the boy. He squints at the child, suspicion gathering on his face.</p><p>“Your name was on the paper…” The boy whispers as an explanation.</p><p>Diego hums, looking away.</p><p>“Please, they’ll bring more. If you don’t trust me, then we can go our separate ways, but they know where you live now, <em> he </em> knows where you live now. It’s...it’s not safe.”</p><p>Diego is quiet for a moment, thoughts rumbling through his head, conspiracy theories swirling as he tries to put together the missing pieces. </p><p>“Help me pack my things.” He finally says, pulling his phone from his pocket. </p><p>His contacts are still up, Ben’s name clear on the screen. He gulps, exiting from the app and opening his camera. He uses it to find the piece of glass he can feel in his face. He pulls it out carelessly, droplets of blood dripping down his cheek. He lowers the phone to find Five still standing in the same spot, watching him with a foreign expression. He ignores it, using his sleeve to wipe the blood away. </p><p>“Let’s go.” He mutters, reaching past Five to grab a knife. </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“So, what do you intend to do with all this?” Five asks, waving the stitched up pages of evidence around. </p><p>He lowers them back to his lap, turning to fully focus on the man in the driver’s seat. Diego glances over at the boy and then back to the road.</p><p>“Bring the fucker down.” He answers easily.</p><p>Five hums at that, looking down at the papers. </p><p>“And how do you propose we do that?” He wonders aloud, flicking through the evidence.</p><p>“First of all, there’s no ‘we.’ Second of all, ‘propose’? How old are you?” </p><p>“Thirteen.” Five says as if his age equates to adulthood. He raises his brows and folds his arms over his chest. “You have a problem with that?”</p><p>“No, just curious.” Diego shrugs, fingers tapping against the steering wheel. “To answer your question, I just need a solid enough set of evidence to take to the media.”</p><p>Five motions to himself. “Am I not solid enough evidence?”</p><p>“No, Reginald has a way of twisting things.” Diego says, glancing between the road and his passenger. “But maybe you know things I don’t.”</p><p>“Oh, so there is a ‘we’ now, huh?” The boy remarks sarcastically, turning his head to look out the window to his right.</p><p>Diego doesn’t respond, keeping his eyes firmly on the road.</p><p>“Have you told anyone else?” Five asks, looking up at the sky. “About all of this?”</p><p>His siblings’ faces flicker through Diego’s mind. “No.”</p><p>Five turns to scan the man’s face, skeptical. “Not even your <em> girlfriend?” </em></p><p>“Excuse me?” Diego questions, glancing between the road and the boy in quick succession.</p><p>“I found your box of mementos.” Five says with a shrug. </p><p>“Fuck, you’re nosey.” Diego grumbles, hands tightening around the wheel. “No I didn’t tell her, which I guess is the reason why she broke up with me. So thank you for the reminder.”</p><p>“Anytime.” Five retorts with a toothy grin.</p><p>Diego rolls his eyes. Have children always been like this? Maybe technology has made them all assholes. He grimaces at his own thought, realizing he’s one of <em> those </em>types of people. He supposes, regardless of technology, thirteen is the prime asshole age. In fact, he’s certain he was probably even more of an asshole then. But, he had an excuse and well, so does this kid. Has this kid even been exposed to technology? Did he have it worse off than Diego? Was he basically kept in a dungeon his whole life between the Academy and some secret lab? Was he tested on? Was he abused?</p><p>Diego’s irritation dissolves and all that’s left is the thought that maybe he and this kid are more alike than he’d have ever thought.</p><p>“So, do you have any information I don’t?” Diego asks, voice coming out even softer than he’d expected.</p><p>“Such as?” Five questions, fingers fiddling with the papers in his lap. </p><p>“Well, you said you lived in the Academy, right? What was that like?”</p><p>Diego can see the boy staring at him out of the corner of his eye. </p><p>“You first.” The kid says.  “I’ll tell you what it was like for me when you tell me what it was like for you.”</p><p>Diego sighs, watching a stray raindrop trickle down the windshield. He hasn’t told anyone this story, has never uttered his past to a single soul. But unraveling this case is, at this point, his life’s work and if telling one little depressing story can open the whole thing wide, then it’s more than worth it. </p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Reginald had never been a good father, or much of a father at all. At best, he was cold and distant. At worst- </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Diego wakes to the feeling of a prick in his neck. He blinks up blearily at his mother who’s sitting on the edge of his bed, a vial in one hand, a syringe in the other. He sits up, a hand reaching to cup his aching neck.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “Mom? What was that?” He asks, scanning his mother’s anxious face.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “It was nothing, dear.” She whispers, a fabricated smile tugging her lips up. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “What was it?” Diego repeats his question, reaching for the vial.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> She pulls it from his reach, her smile dropping back down to blankness. She stands, revealing Reginald who’s standing in the doorway, watching with critical eyes.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “What did you do to me?” Diego questions, shoving up from his bed.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> His vision turns blurry and he falls to the ground. His neck aches fiercely, a sharp pain lodging itself there and flowing down the nerves in his back. He can feel his mother’s hand touching his shoulder, but it’s gone as quickly as it had arrived. He blinks towards the door where Reginald is leading his mother out. He tries to get back up but his body has all but turned to jelly, his legs refusing to work. His head feels heavy as he drops fully to the ground. His jaw slams against the floor, the force reverberating through his skull. His eyes screw shut and the last thing he hears is his bedroom door being locked.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> He’s locked in his room for what feels like forever, but is really around a day and a half. Most of it is spent with his face squished on the floor, unable to move. Slowly the feeling in his body returns and when he is finally able to stand again, he bangs against his bedroom door for hours until he’s too tired to any longer. He falls asleep against the door and wakes to it being opened. He just barely catches himself before hitting the floor. He stares up at his father who’s towering over him. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “Get up child, we have tests to run.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Diego refuses, defiantly remaining on the floor. His father reaches down, grabbing him by the hair and yanking him up. Diego yelps, attempting to pull his father’s hand away from his hair, but Reginald just tightens his grip, half-dragging the teenager down the hall.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> As he’s pulled across the floor, he glances at each of his siblings’ open doors. They’re all standing in their doorways, likely curious about the commotion. They all watch Diego with expressions ranging from fear to pity to acceptance.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> He’s taken down to the basement training rooms where he spends the next month being grilled by his father. He’s put through an array of trials. The easiest had only resulted in sore muscles - running, weight lifting, mathematics (that had brought about a sore brain). Worse trials resulted in scars like the time he’d been forced to touch an open flame or when he had to attempt to somehow catch a knife that was thrown at his face. The big scar across the side of his head is proof enough of just how much that did not work.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> The worst of them all was when Reginald forced him to try to hold his breath underwater. He’d been shoved into a straight jacket which was enough by itself to fuel his nightmares, but then Reginald made him get into a deep tub of water. It’d been harrowing, he’d thought for sure he’d die right then and there. A part of him had been okay with it, but that first gulp of water was enough to change his mind. Had his mother not begged Reginald to help him up, he’d have drowned. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> His siblings hadn’t been exposed to the same trials and he could never understand why. He had tried desperately to explain the weird shit his father put him through, tried to tell his siblings that he thought he’d been injected with something altering. But they refused to believe him, they tried to convince him that they’d been injected with supplements. He’d almost pulled his hair out struggling to persuade them that that thought was ridiculous. He’d told them he couldn’t move after the syringe and they’d said it was all in his head - that they were fine after the injection, that Dad had even shown them the bottle and the ingredients in it.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> That had been the beginning of the end for Diego’s relationship with his siblings. He never stopped trying to convince them and they never stopped denying it. He documented everything that happened, everything his father forced him to endure. He’d never been able to come up with a full hypothesis, the puzzle always missing it’s jagged center.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> After a while, his father had given up on whatever endeavor he’d been working towards. He’d seemingly lost all interest in the siblings after that, locking himself away in his study for days at a time. It’d been the greatest gift of all, until he’d taken away their mother and with her the only sense of love Diego had in his life.  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Diego sucks in a deep, shaky breath. His fingers tremble against the steering wheel. The car is silent for a moment. He glances over at Five. The thirteen year old is staring down at his hands that rest atop the papers on his lap. </p><p>“So, yeah, that’s what my experience with the great Sir Reginald Hargreeves was like.” Diego mutters, watching the child for a moment longer before turning his attention back to the road.</p><p>“I...I’m sorry.” Five mumbles, shaking his head.</p><p>Diego’s eyes shoot back over to his passenger. A tear rolls down the boy’s cheek as he scans Diego’s face. The thirty-two year old gulps, blinking back towards the road. He doesn’t feel right asking the kid for his story now that he’s crying. </p><p>“I’m gonna-I’m gonna sleep.” The boy whispers, turning away in his seat.</p><p>Despite his words, he remains awake, head resting against the window, eyes staring forward, for the rest of the drive. Even when Diego gets out of the car to refill the gas, he remains silent and unflinching in his seat. </p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>“Hey, uh-we’re here.” Diego says softly as he puts the car in park. </p><p>Five silently sits up, unbuckles, and gets out of the car. Diego blinks after him, pulling his keys out. He grabs his backpack from the back seat, shoving the papers from Five’s seat into it. He steps out of the car, his hair waving as the wind teases it. Five is staring at the ground, waiting for him next to the vehicle. </p><p>“I need to check in.” Diego adds, mostly to fill the almost unbearable silence.</p><p>The boy glances up at him, nodding once. Diego sighs heading towards the motel. He listens for the sound of the boy following behind him, the flip flops Diego had found for the kid at the gas station are loud against the concrete. </p><p>Five follows him like a shadow into the office. Diego steps up to the desk, placing a small smile on his face. </p><p>“Hi, I need a room please.”</p><p>The woman at the front desk smiles up at him and then past him at Five. “Doubles?”</p><p>“Yes, my son and I are going on a bit of a bonding trip.” Diego chuckles lightly, reaching behind himself to pull Five forward next to him.</p><p>He places an arm around the boy, can see the way he’s arching his brow at him out of his peripheral.</p><p>“Oh, how sweet.” She says, chewing her gum between words. She types into the computer, fixing her eyes on the screen. “Are twins okay?”</p><p>“That would be perfect.” Diego answers, voice sickly sweet. </p><p>Five’s shoulders are tense under Diego’s arm, as if he’s ready to bolt any moment. Diego drops his arm from around him to pull his wallet out and retrieve his cash. The transaction goes through and the woman gives him a key, telling him checkout is at 11am tomorrow. He nods, thanking her, and returning an arm around Five to steer him out of the office. As soon as they’re out of sight, the boy shrugs out from under him, crossing his arms across his chest. </p><p>The trek up to the fourth floor is entirely quiet, not a word passing between the two. They finally make it to their room. Diego unlocks the door and opens it for the kid to pass through. He shuts the door behind himself, flipping the lock and fixing the chain as well. Although, he supposes if the police decide to break down the door again, a chain won’t hinder them much. He glances around the room, it’s as small as can be expected. He doesn’t have much money saved up and if they’re technically on the run now, he has to ration the best he can which means cheaper motels. His eyes catch on Five who’s already laying on the furthest bed, facing away from him. His stomach twists at the sight, he wonders what he’s done wrong, what he said to bother the kid. Maybe he'd reminded the boy of his own traumatic experiences. He shakes his head, feeling guilty as he deposits his backpack on his bed. This is why he never wanted kids, they’re far too sensitive and he’s far too...obtuse. </p><p>He kicks off his shoes, dropping down onto the bed. The drive had been long and tiring. Despite this, he pulls his notebook and his evidence from his backpack. He flicks the notebook open to a clean page. He pulls a pen out, uncapping it, and quickly jotting a name down at the top of the paper: <em> Five </em>. </p><p>He glances over at the child. His eyes catch on the back of the boy’s neck. There’s a dark vertical scar that he’d somehow missed before. The difference between it and the pale skin is palpable. Diego forces himself to look away, casting his vision to the book in his lap instead. </p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Diego wakes to the feeling of hands shaking him. He blinks up at Five who’s hovering over him.</p><p>“What is it?” He croaks, reaching up to rub at his tired eyes.</p><p>“Someone keeps calling you.” Five says, far too loudly for Diego’s liking. </p><p>The man twists in his bed to glance over at the nightstand. His phone screen is black and sure enough within seconds, it’s ringing. He doesn’t recognize the number, but accepts the call and puts the phone to his ear anyway. </p><p>“Diego?”</p><p>Diego sits up at the sound of the voice, suddenly wide awake. Five settles on the edge of his own bed, watching curiously.</p><p>“Ben?” Diego whispers, heart beating wildly in his chest. </p><p>He hasn’t talked to any of his siblings in over a decade. </p><p>“Diego? Are you okay?” </p><p>“Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?” Diego questions, glancing over at the boy staring at him. </p><p>“You’re on the news, they’re saying you’re involved in a kidnapping case?” </p><p>“Oh, shit.” Diego curses, standing from the bed to start nervously pacing.</p><p>“Tell me you didn’t kidnap someone Diego.”</p><p>“I didn’t kidnap someone. Ben, I always told you guys Dad was into some fucked up shit. I-I found one of his labs and this-this kid,” He glances over at Five whose eyes are focused down on his hands. “This kid was locked in there like a...a fucking experiment so I...I saved him and he followed me home. I’d take him to the police if I could, but they’d probably just give him back to Dad, you know how powerful he is.”</p><p>Diego is heavily breathing as he paces the floor. Ben is silent on the other line.</p><p>“Diego, where are you?” His brother finally asks, voice calm and level.</p><p>He glances over at Five who steadily shakes his head at him.</p><p>“We’re in Virginia.”</p><p>Ben sucks in a deep breath. “The kid is with you?” </p><p>“Yeah.” Diego answers, despite Five telling him to say no.</p><p>Ben is quiet once more. Diego can barely hear the sound of him whispering to someone.</p><p>“Come to Florida,” Ben starts, suddenly sounding much closer to the phone. “You can stay with me.”</p><p>Diego reels, he honestly hadn’t been expecting much to come from this conversion. “Are you serious? Do you really mean that?”</p><p>“I do.” Ben says softly.  “Here I’ll give you my address. I know it’s a long drive, but I’ll be here whenever you get here, okay?”</p><p>Diego quickly rips his notebook and pen up from the end of his bed, jotting down the address his brother rattles off. </p><p>“Okay, thank you, Ben.” He mutters, lowering his notebook and shutting his eyes. “Seriously, you believing me means more than you know.”</p><p>“...Sure.” </p><p>Diego gulps and whispers, “I’ll-uh-I’ll see you.”</p><p>“Yeah. Bye, Diego.”</p><p>Diego pulls his phone down from his ear, holding it to his chest for a moment. He glances over at Five who’s staring at him with an annoyed look.</p><p>“You know we can’t go, right?” </p><p>Diego opens his mouth to respond but before he can, a knock on the door cuts him off. He and Five share a look of surprise. He quickly reaches over to his backpack, pulling the pistol out and cocking it. </p><p>“Room service.” A woman calls from the other side of the door.</p><p>Diego’s shoulders almost drop, he almost feels less guarded until he remembers the time he’d noticed when he accepted the call. It’s five a.m. and unless the motel is looking to piss their guests off, this is no room service. </p><p>There’s a sudden crunch of metal on the other side of the door as the handle jiggles. The door is pushed open, the knob on the other side seemingly squished. A woman’s smiling face peers in through the crack that the chain provides. </p><p>“Hello Number Five.” She greets with a predatory grin, scanning Five and then quickly glancing over at Diego. “Looks like you made it through round one unscathed, will you be able to say the same after I’m done with you?” </p><p>Diego backs up, pushing the kid behind him. He holds his weapon up. “I have a gun.”</p><p>The woman chuckles, reaching up to grab at the chain on the door. She tightens her fist and rips, pulling the entire latch from the wall. She slams the door open, it bangs loudly against the wall. Diego’s eyes are wide as he steadily backs both him and Five further away. </p><p>The woman steps into the room, eyes flickering around the place. She’s casual as she stalks towards them. She is intimidatingly built, arm muscles bulging from under the t-shirt she’s wearing. She looks stronger than even Luther had in his late teens after making body building his hobby. She’s getting close now so Diego steadies his arm, finger sliding over the trigger.</p><p>“I’ll shoot.” He warns, his free hand tightening in the boy’s shirt who he has to force to keep behind him. </p><p>“Oh, I’m counting on it.” The woman says with a wink.</p><p>She starts towards them with a faster speed so Diego aims and shoots. The sound is almost deafening in such a close range. But Diego’s more worried about their assailant who just sidestepped his bullet than he is his ringing ears. He shoots again, missing once more, and the woman is on him. She grabs him by the lapels, easily raising him and tossing him. His back slams into the dresser, the gun flinging from his hands. He groans, reaching out desperately for the weapon but the woman’s already there picking it up. She makes a show of crouching in front of him and snapping the gun in two. He flinches at the move, eyes wide in both disturbed intrigue and horror. </p><p>She drops the destroyed weapon in front of him and stands, turning her attention to Five. “Your turn, little boy.” </p><p>Diego tries to stand, pushing himself halfway up from the carpet. He finds himself entranced by the sight across the room. Five and the woman are fighting, but surprisingly, the child is evading her every move. He sidesteps, he rolls, he slides. He’s holding his own where Diego, a grown man, could not. Or at least he was, until the woman reaches into her pocket and without warning the kid crumples to the ground. He twitches as if he’d been electrocuted and the woman easily picks him up by the fabric of Diego’s night shirt. She slams him into the wall, wrapping her hand around his neck.</p><p>“Cha-cheat-cheater.” The boy croaks, fingernails digging into the woman’s arm.</p><p>Diego is up from the ground with a shout and he runs towards their attacker without a single thought. He slams into her, but it does nothing. She tightens her hand around the boy’s throat. Five is choking, his small hands gripping hers in a futile attempt to remove them and his legs kicking from above the ground. </p><p>Diego’s mind races as he tries to come up with some sort of plan. A second’s thought and he jumps at the woman, slamming a fist into her eye. It works as he’d hoped it would, forcing her to drop the boy who coughs, reaching up to massage his throat. Unfortunately it doesn’t stop her so much as it seems to piss her off even more. She turns towards Diego, one eye now shut, face devoid of her earlier playful smile. Rage twists her features as she backhands the man. Diego is sent flying backwards into the bed, bouncing off of it and hitting the ground. The air is knocked from his lungs as he attempts to scramble back up. He glances past the woman approaching him to where the boy is slowly recovering. His eyes are forced back to their assailant as she lifts him once more. She throws him and he hits the wall, falling back down to the ground. He goes almost entirely limp, can barely raise his head. His vision is blurry as he watches her stalk towards him once more. </p><p>He blinks and she’s standing in front of him. She raises her boot-clad foot, likely preparing for the final hit. With her kind of strength, this is likely Diego’s last moments. He can only hope that the kid can escape while he’s being murdered. He shuts his eyes tightly as she swings. The hit never comes so he blinks his eyes back open. Five is on the woman’s back, attempting to wrestle her backwards. </p><p>“Seriously, Number Five, you think just cause Dad taught you some evasive maneuvers that you can beat me?” The woman hisses, reaching back to grab the boy, “My strength will always outnumber you, kid.”</p><p>With that, she rips him over her shoulder, throwing him. He lands perfectly, recovering within a second. He’s back on her, grabbing and scratching at anything he can. </p><p>“You’re never gonna be able to pull this off.” She chuckles, voice derogatory as she easily pushes him a few steps back. </p><p>Diego tries once more to get up, desperately wanting to help the kid. His back protests, a pained moan escaping him. Five glances at him and then back to the woman.</p><p>“You really think so?” He asks the woman, a teasing smile on his face.</p><p>Diego blinks at that, wondering if he’d missed something. In the next second, the boy has reappeared in front of the woman and he slams his hand down on her chest. Her eyes widen and suddenly she falls backwards. Instead of hitting the floor, she seemingly falls right through it, disappearing from the room. The breath is ripped from Diego’s lungs as he stares up at the boy who’s standing a few paces in front of him. Five glances over at him as if just noticing him, he’s breathing heavily and his eyes are wild. He steps over to the man, lowering a hand. Diego stares at him, his heart hammering in his chest. He’s struck with a familiarity, the blurred face in his dreams blending with the face in front of him.</p><p>“Are you okay?” The boy asks, eyes refusing to settle on Diego. </p><p>Diego ignores the offered hand, slowly pushing himself up despite the deep ache roaming throughout his body.</p><p>“What...what the hell...was that?” </p><p>Diego finally forces himself to stand, back arched as he rests his hands on his knees, attempting to get air back into his lungs.</p><p>“I told you I can teleport.” The boy says nonchalantly, a tilt of humor to his tone.</p><p>Diego glares at the child, feeling absolutely not in the mood for jokes. </p><p>“And you’re telling me that whatever the fuck that was- was teleportation?” He growls, tone sharp and bitter. </p><p>Five seems to falter at the tone, crossing his arms over his chest. </p><p>“I don’t owe you anything, Diego.” He scowls, taking a step further away from the man.</p><p>“Actually you kinda fucking do. I just got my ass handed to me for <em> you </em> and you seem to be perfectly fine.” Diego grumbles, flinging his hand out to motion to the boy.</p><p>He straightens his back with a groan.</p><p>“I’m gonna….what am I going to do?” He asks himself, stretching his neck. He looks over at Five who’s still watching him. “We’re going to Ben’s. He’ll know how to...he’ll know what to do. And I don’t want to hear a single word from you for the rest of the trip. Understood?”</p><p>Five turns away, hand reaching up to massage his neck. “Understood.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Umbrella Academy being renewed for season 3 was some of the best news ever :,)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>They’re on the road again and have been for about two and a half hours. Diego made a pit stop almost as soon as they’d started driving again, refilling the gas. He anxiously counted the remaining bills in his wallet. His money is quickly draining, they’ll barely make it to Florida. And now, to make matters even worse, he’s second guessing every single move he's made. The woman who checked them in at the hotel must have clearly seen them, what if she called the police? What if someone saw his car? What if one of his ex-girlfriends gave his car information to the cops? What if this is all for nothing and they’re about to be pulled over?</p><p>His fingers clench against the steering wheel as he realizes just how fucked he is now. He had to be the good guy. He had to figure out what his father was up to. He had to rescue a kid. He had to let said kid come home with him and stay with him. He had to go on the run with said kid. He’s just given up his entire life for this boy, this boy who supposedly has some sort of superpower, this boy who has possibly been in his nightmares for years. He can’t even wrap his mind around that last bit, although he supposes he can’t really wrap his mind around any of it. Superpowers? That’s something for comic books, for fiction, not real life. And if the kid was telling the truth about having powers, does that mean he was telling the truth about being an alien too? </p><p>Diego glances over at his silent passenger. The boy is bodily twisted away from Diego, arms folded against the window sill as he stares at the passing trees. There’s dark handprints around his neck. Diego feels a little guilty for how he reacted earlier which is ridiculous considering the amount of shit he’s been put through the past three days. Nonetheless, if Five is telling the truth, and not <em> Orphan </em>-ing him, then he’s only a thirteen year old boy. Powers or not, he has to at least be sore or shaken from their last two encounters. </p><p>Diego turns his attention back to the road. His back hurts fiercely and he can feel bruises blooming along his spine. That woman had thrown him like he’d weighed nothing and she’d snapped a fucking gun in half. Perhaps she has some sort of power as well? Is his father manufacturing super-powered human beings? </p><p>“It’s the serum.”</p><p>Diego blinks over at Five who’s now staring back at him. The boy looks exhausted, his eyebrows pinched together as he watches Diego. </p><p>“What?” Diego breathes out.</p><p>“You’re going crazy trying to figure it out, I can tell. The serum he gave you as a child, it’s likely the same one he gave me and Six, who you were just acquainted to.”</p><p>Diego slowly looks back at the windshield, his brain halting entirely. How had he not even considered that? The weird serum he’d been forced to take as a child, the vials in the lab he’d found Five in. He stutters out a sharp breath.</p><p>“You didn’t really think I was an alien, did you?” </p><p>Diego doesn’t answer the question, staring blankly ahead at the road. He’s imagining red string on a corkboard all connecting together to one piece of evidence. That jagged middle piece of the puzzle is finally closer to being uncovered than ever before. </p><p>“He was testing to see if I had powers.” He mutters out, mostly speaking to himself in an attempt to de-clutter his overactive brain. </p><p>“Precisely.” Five agrees, turning his attention back to the window next to him.</p><p>“Then why not…”</p><p>“Your siblings?” The boy offers, lowering his head to rest back on his arms. He keeps his eyes on the passing trees. “It only works on certain...types of DNA makeup.”</p><p>“Right.” Diego whispers, as if his brain isn’t screeching an error message at him. “Shit, does that mean-?”</p><p>“That you have powers?” Five turns away from the window, eyes flickering around the car as he seems to be trying to decide on how to answer the question. “I don’t know, you’re the only one that could know the answer to that.” </p><p>“Why- why powers?” Diego asks, glancing between the road and his passenger. “What could he possibly accomplish?”</p><p>“Not sure.”</p><p>“Is he trying to take over the world?” Diego wonders aloud, not exactly expecting an answer.</p><p>Five raises his eyebrows at that. “Like I said- not sure.”</p><p>“Fuck, this is-this is…” Diego shakes his head, letting out a bitter laugh. “I was fucking right. All this time - everyone’s acted like I was fucking insane for thinking our father was the villain of this story and turns out he really is. God, I feel so gratified.”</p><p>“Glad to hear that.” Five mumbles, resting his head back against the seat and shutting his eyes.</p><p>“I’m sorry...I didn’t mean it that way.” Diego backtracks, taking a long moment to scan the boy’s face before turning his attention back to the road ahead. “I can imagine how terrible it’s been with him.”</p><p>Five opens his left eye, watching Diego as he says, “It was no walk in the park but I’m sure you know that just as much as I do.”</p><p>“Did he test you for your powers?” Diego softly asks, eyes catching on the ‘North Carolina’ sign.</p><p>“Uh...no, that wasn’t necessary for me. I...uh...I had the same symptoms as you, the numbness,” Five says, waving his hand around. “It lasted around two days. As soon as it was gone, I’d teleported on accident.”</p><p>“So what you did to that woman…” Diego starts, glancing over at his passenger who’s already staring back at him. “That was teleportation?”</p><p>“In a sense.” Five says with a nonchalant shrug, shutting his eyes once more.</p><p>The car is silent for a moment as Diego waits for further explanation, but the boy doesn’t offer it. Diego glances down at the speedometer and then back up to the road. He watches the beautiful scenery pass as he feels remnants of guilt churning in his stomach. He gulps, finding his eyes on the boy once more.</p><p>“Look uh-I’m sorry I was so harsh earlier.” He offers, hoping the kid hasn't already fallen asleep.</p><p>Five blinks his eyes open once more, turning his head to fully face the man in the driver’s seat. “Eh, it’s whatever, it’s nothing compared to-”</p><p>“Dad?” Diego finishes for him, fingers subconsciously tightening around the wheel.</p><p>Five’s face twists into one of barely restrained anger as he quickly grumbles out, “He’s not my dad.”</p><p>Diego reels, not expecting that response. He hadn’t seen such anger in the kid’s expression before and honestly it’s a little intimidating.</p><p>“But that woman…” Diego starts, voice soft in an attempt to not anger his passenger further.</p><p>“She was just saying it because she knew it’d piss me off.” Five scoffs, folding his arms across his chest. “She’s obsessed with Hargreeves, I don’t know why and she thinks because she’s older- she’s better than me. Clearly she was wrong.”</p><p>“Clearly.” Diego whispers, the way the woman disappeared replaying in his head over and over again. </p><p>Where had she gone? Is she still out there? Is she tailing them right now? Diego glances in his rearview mirror, the street is rather empty behind him. It’s still morning and they’re taking back roads, but he still can’t help but feel on edge. He opens his mouth to ask the kid more about his powers, but he’s beaten to speaking.</p><p>“Diego, can I ask you something?” The boy questions, voice level now as he stares down at his lap.</p><p>The anger from before seems to be forgotten. </p><p>Diego nods and says, “Sure.”</p><p>“You’ve got the whole vigilante thing going on and you’ve been going at it for a long time… at least that’s what I gathered from your evidence.” Five starts, looking over at Diego who nods along to his words. “You...I mean you had to have known giving our information away to your brother like that was a bad idea and yet you did, why?”</p><p>Diego sucks in a deep breath, one hand lowering to rest at the bottom of the wheel and the other moving to rest against the window sill. “I...I trust Ben.”</p><p>“Why?” Five wonders, eyes raising from his lap to stare at the side of Diego’s face. “I mean after everything...you said they never believed you before. Who’s to say this time is any different? Who’s to say he doesn’t have the cops on standby?”</p><p>Diego readjusts in his seat, eyes refusing to leave the road as he feels suddenly vulnerable. “I guess despite the world constantly trying to prove me wrong, I still think there’s good out there. I still...after everything, I still have hope. Maybe I shouldn’t, but he’s my brother.”</p><p>Five is silent for a moment, just watching Diego who anxiously begins to tap his fingers against the window.</p><p>“You’re a good person, Diego.” The boy finally whispers, before dropping his eyes back down to his lap. “A really good person.”</p><p>Diego shrugs, allowing a small smile to tug his lips up.</p><p>“Saying that,” Five adds, voice still small. “I don’t think going to Florida is a good idea. I...I just don’t know if risking your brother is the right move.”</p><p>Diego hums, finally glancing over at his passenger again. “I think you’re forgetting the fact that we have a teleporting superhero on our side.”</p><p>Five shakes his head, bodily turning away from Diego once more. He whispers something under his breath as he forces his attention back to the landscape outside.</p><p>“What?” Diego asks, sitting forward in an attempt to see the boy’s hidden face.</p><p>“Uh-nothing.” Five mumbles with a wave of his hand.</p><p>Diego opens his mouth to speak but is once again beaten to it, but this time by the awful sound of a tire exploding. He shouts out a curse, both hands now gripping the wheel in an attempt to steady the car. The vehicle tilts, screeching against the road as he attempts to pull it over. It finally comes to a stop in the grass. Diego and Five share a startled look at the unexpected troubles. </p><p>“You...have...to….be...fucking...kidding...me.” Diego says between breaths, slamming his hand down against the wheel. </p><p>Five flinches. “What happened?”</p><p>“The stupid fucking tire blew.” Diego grumbles, roughly running a hand through his hair. </p><p>“Can it be fixed?” Five asks, already moving to unbuckle. </p><p>“Yeah, yeah it can be fixed.” Diego mutters, voice suddenly much calmer. “It’s bullshit for this to happen to us right now, but I can fix it.”</p><p>Five nods, settling back into the seat. </p><p>“You know anything about cars?” Diego asks, putting the car in park and pulling the keys from the ignition.</p><p>Five fixes him with a deadpan look. “Does it appear as though I know anything about cars?”</p><p>“Come on, I’ll show you how to replace a tire.”</p><p>Five looks unsure for a moment, glancing between the windshield and Diego. He finally seems to make up his mind, pushing the passenger door open. The two meet at the back of the car, where Diego opens the trunk and starts to pull up the carpet. </p><p>“What are you doing?” Five questions, tiptoeing to look over Diego’s shoulder. </p><p>“This is where the tire is kept.” Diego explains, stepping aside to show the boy the hidden spare. </p><p>Five’s eyes are wide with curiosity. He steps back to allow the man to pull the tire all the way out. Diego drops the item to the ground, lightly chuckling at the look on Five’s face, before turning back to grab the tools from the trunk.</p><p>“You mind going to pull up the safety break?” Diego asks. Upon noticing the boy is still standing there without a clue, he adds. “The stick in between the front and passenger seat, just pull it up.”</p><p>Five nods, turning to do as he’s told. Diego smiles softly at him before moving his attention back to the task at hand, lugging the tire and his tools over to their newest problem. It’s the back tire on the driver’s side. He sticks the spare against the flat and goes searching for a rock to stabilize the other side. He returns with a lucky brick, Five standing ready to learn. Diego shows him the item in his hand, explaining that bracketing the flat tire helps to make sure the car doesn’t roll. He crouches, getting to work with the jack. He motions for Five to try, allowing him to turn it a few times. He pats the boy on the back for his good work and the kid suddenly turns shy, lowering himself fully to the ground to watch Diego start to remove the hubcap. </p><p>“Did you ever have kids?” Five asks, voice so low Diego barely hears the question. </p><p>He glances behind himself at the kid as he lowers the hubcap to the ground. </p><p>“Uh-no.” He says, scanning the boy’s face, wondering what prompted such a question. </p><p>Five’s face falls, but it’s replaced so quickly with a blank expression that Diego thinks maybe he just imagined it. </p><p>“Why not?” The kid asks emotionlessly, eyes flickering down to the tools on the ground. </p><p>Diego shrugs, picking up the wrench and turning his attention back to the tire. “Lots of reasons. I never had them and I never plan to have them.”</p><p>He starts to loosen the lug nuts. Five is so quiet behind him, he almost thinks he disappeared. He glances over his shoulder, the boy is still there, just silently staring down at the ground as he plays with the grass with his fingers. Diego sighs, looking away, feeling like he’d once again done something wrong. </p><p>He moves on to cranking the jack again, lifting the car from the ground. He offers the kid the chance to try it once more, but the boy’s gone from his spot, standing a few paces in front of the car instead. Diego finishes replacing the tire by himself.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter 5</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Diego slams the trunk shut, glancing around the car to where Five is standing with his back turned. He sighs moving to head over when the sound of a car pulling up behind him forces him to turn around. </p><p>A man gets out of the car, shutting the door behind himself.</p><p>“Hi, we’re actually all good here.” Diego says with a wave of his hand.</p><p>With a blink, Five is next to him, eyebrows furrowed and voice low as he directs Diego to get his ass into the car. Diego stares at the man walking towards them instead, realizing he must be another one of Reginald’s “experiments.” Diego shakes his head at Five’s words, placing a heavy hand on the boy’s shoulder. The man stops a few paces away. </p><p>“Number Five.” He greets, voice gravely and deep.</p><p>“I didn’t expect another one of you to show up so soon.” Five says with a weird intonation in his voice. </p><p>Diego’s eyebrows raise as he glances between the kid and the man. </p><p>“Well, Reginald is getting impatient. You know how he is.” The man shrugs, tone casual and teasing.</p><p>Five hums. Diego blinks and next thing he knows the shoulder under his hand is missing and Five is directly in front of the man shoving his hand out. The man immediately shoves out his own, pointing his flat palm towards the kid. Five immediately falls to the ground, his hands reaching up to fist in his hair. He screams out Diego’s name.</p><p>Although unsure of what the hell just happened, Diego reaches down to pull the knife from his waistband.</p><p>“What the hell are you doing to him?” He growls, holding the knife out in front of himself. </p><p>“Showing him his worst nightmare, you ready for yours?” </p><p>That’s all the warning Diego gets before he feels his arms being restrained and he can’t breathe. He can’t breathe. He’s suffocating. He’s back in the tub, in a straightjacket, unable to move, unable to breathe. He cries out, his mouth opening, letting the water stream in. He chokes on it, eyes wide and wild as he stares up at the surface of the water begging someone to rescue him. He can barely make out his father's face staring down at him, lips twisted up in a smirk. Everything turns fuzzy and Diego can feel an intense pressure in his head and his lungs. He's going to die here. </p><p><em> Mom rescued you. </em> His mind reminds him, his vision suddenly less blurry. <em> This isn’t real, you won’t die. Mom saves you.  </em></p><p>He blinks and he’s standing on grass, staring straight at the man. He’s not underwater and he’s not restrained.</p><p>“Holy shit, that was the fastest anyone’s broken out. Very impressive, Diego.”</p><p>Diego ignores the man, eyes dropping to land on the boy. He’s on his hands and knees, staring at the ground, and sobbing. </p><p>“What the hell are you making him see, you bastard?” Diego growls, shifting on his feet. </p><p>“You dying.” The man remarks easily, tutting as he reaches down to pick up Five by the back of his shirt. “Clearly you’ve made quite the impact, Reginald will love to hear that.”</p><p>Diego only now notices that their attacker had stolen his knife from him, likely when he was busy still drowning. The man raises his arm, resting the blade against the boy’s neck as he crouches to whisper something in his ear. Diego’s heart stutters and he holds his breath. </p><p>In one fluid movement, he reaches down into his sock, pulling up another knife. He flings the weapon out and it hits its target true, as Diego expects it to. He’s never been so thankful for his knife obsession. The knife is bulging from the man’s neck, his eyes now wide in surprise. The other knife drops from their attacker’s hand as he falls forward away from Five. His knees heavily hit the grass as he reaches up with his hand to clasp around the weapon. Blood tricks down from the blade. Diego glances to Five who’s finally come to, shaking his head as he seems to try to gauge his surroundings. His eyes catch on the wheezing man, his face twisting into one of horror. </p><p>“Jesus, Diego, what did you do?!” He shouts, scrambling across the ground, stopping in front of the dying man. </p><p>“You-you’re…” The man gurgles, blood dripping past his lips. “Fu-fucked.”</p><p>“No no no no, Diego, you weren’t supposed to fucking kill him. Fuck fuck.” Five’s hands hover over the man anxiously. </p><p>“We can fix this, this can be fixed.” He mutters to himself, eyes searching the man’s now distant ones. </p><p>Diego steps forward, grabbing the boy’s shoulder and pulling him back. </p><p>“<em> You </em> weren’t supposed to fucking kill him.” Five cries, voice hoarse. </p><p>“He was going to kill you, Five.” Diego whispers, voice calm and level.</p><p>The boy shakes his head at that, eyes glued on their bloody assailant.</p><p>“You should go back to the car. I need to get my knife.” Diego instructs, lightly pushing the boy. </p><p>Five throws his hands out as he walks away, mumbling to himself and shaking his head. Diego steps back over to the man who’s now flat on the ground and not breathing. Diego grabs his arm and drags him until he’s hidden behind his own car. He pulls the knife out, grimacing as blood bursts from the wound. He wipes the blade on the ground and shoves it back into his sock. He glances at the man’s face once more, before turning around searching for his other knife. He finds it and heads back to the car. </p><p>He’s killed people before, very bad people, but that doesn’t stop the sick feeling that erupts in his chest.  Now that he’s going to be wanted for both kidnapping and potentially murder, he doesn’t have much time for losing himself in needless thoughts about his body count. At this point, it’s about getting the boy somewhere safe, nothing else. His life is done, there’s no going back and fixing the choices he’s made, and he’ll have to live, or die, with that. He knew vigilantism was dangerous, he knew it'd catch up with him at some point. Frankly, he's surprised it took this long. He falls into the driver seat, dropping his knife in the cup holder. The car is silent as he pulls the door closed and picks the keys up from the dash, jabbing them into the ignition. He glances over at Five who has his knees pulled up to his chest and his head hidden in his arms. </p><p>“I’m sorry you had to see that.” Diego says, reaching out to pat the kid’s back. “I’m not sorry I killed him, he was going to kill you.”</p><p>“That’s not the problem.” Five mumbles into his arm. </p><p>Diego’s eyebrow raises as he puts the car in drive and moves it back onto the road.</p><p>“Then what is?” He asks, glancing in the rearview mirror. </p><p>No one is on the streets and he’s incredibly grateful for that. He presses down on the gas, wanting nothing more than to get far away from the scene of the crime. </p><p>“He’s going to be pissed.” </p><p>“Who? Reginald? I won’t let him get you, okay? I’ll get you to Ben’s and then I’ll leave so they lose the trail. He’ll know how to help you.”</p><p>Five scoffs, humorlessly laughing to himself. He raises his head to look at Diego, his eyes cloudy. </p><p>“I have to tell you something.”</p><p>Diego is haunted by the tone of the kid’s voice. He reaches out, fixing the rearview mirror, in an attempt to appear unaffected. </p><p>“What is it?” He asks, purposefully forcing his tone to be neutral. </p><p>Five opens his mouth to speak, but instead his face screws up. He reaches up to tightly grab at the back of his neck. </p><p>“What’s wrong?” Diego questions, eyes quickly flickering between the windshield and his passenger. </p><p>“You-you’re gonna be so pissed.” Five mumbles, trembling in the seat. </p><p>“What’s wrong?” Diego repeats, this time his voice deeper and authoritative. </p><p>“There’s a...fuck...a tracker in my neck, it works like a...a...shock collar too.”</p><p>“What the fuck, Five!” Diego shouts, immediately veering the car back off the road. </p><p>The vehicle roughly stops, jolting both of them. Diego slams his fist against the wheel, wrath welling up inside of him.</p><p>“No wonder they’ve known where we were.” He hisses, glaring daggers at the kid. “Why the fuck didn’t you tell me? That was incredibly stupid and you put us both in danger.” </p><p>Five curls into himself, expression guilty. He shudders, jaw tight as his teeth grind.</p><p>“It’s hurting you right now?” Diego questions in a suddenly softer tone, reaching out to bodily turn the boy in his seat. </p><p>He doesn’t know what he’d been expecting the vertical scar on the kid’s neck to be, but it definitely wasn’t this. </p><p>“It’s low, but the closer in proximity they get, the worse it’s going to be.” Five explains, shifting nervously in his seat as if he expects Diego to stab him in the back. “You have to take it out.”</p><p>“Take it out? How the hell would I do that?”</p><p>Five reaches down, grabbing the knife from the cup holder and holding it out behind himself for Diego. </p><p>“No fucking way. That is not sanitary. You could get an infection, I could accidently do something wrong. For fucks sake if you’d said this back at my apartment or even the hotel, maybe it’d been doable. But now? Five, what the hell were you thinking?”</p><p>The kid remains facing forward, but his shoulders raise as if he expects to be hit.</p><p>“Jesus, this is why I can’t do kids.” Diego mumbles under his breath.</p><p>Five flinches, fingers tightening around the knife. </p><p>“I’m telling you now, okay?” The boy mumbles, voice pained. “Either you do it or I will, your choice.”</p><p>“Goddammit.” Diego grumbles, snatching the knife from Five’s hand. He motions to the dash. "Get the first-aid kit from the glove compartment."</p><p>Five’s back is shaking from where it’s still facing Diego as he reaches out to push the drawer open. He pulls out the little box with the cross on it, handing it back to Diego. The man sighs, opening it and pulling alcohol wipes from the box. He makes quick work of cleaning the blade, using multiple alcohol pads in the hopes that it'll sanitize it enough. Five’s head is twisted over his shoulder so he can watch the whole ordeal. Diego pulls out a few pieces of gauze, along with an already threaded needle. He pushes nausea down, begging himself to get through this whole endeavor without hurling. </p><p>“Alright, you better pray that did enough. I swear to God if we get to Ben’s and you die of infection I’m going to be <em> so </em> pissed.”</p><p>“Alright, alright,” Five says placatingly, turning his head back to face the passenger window. “Just do it please. My brain is practically buzzing.”</p><p>“Yes, well, that is your punishment for not being honest with me.” Diego mutters, moving to kneel in the driver’s seat. </p><p>He pulls the piece of gauze from his lap and folds it over the collar of the boy's shirt, in hopes of stopping any blood from dripping past. He wipes Five's skin in preparation. He's never this careful with cleaning his own wounds, but this is a kid and despite the unfortunate situation, he's gonna do the best he can with the limited materials he has. </p><p>“Okay, Five, this is gonna hurt like a bitch." He warns, resting one hand in between the junction of Five’s neck and shoulder, hoping to steady both the kid and himself. "If you need me to stop you say so, alright?”</p><p>“Alright.” Five says lowly, fingers tightening in his pants. </p><p>Diego reaches out, eyes sharp and hand steady. The tip of the knife settles at the top of the scar. He slowly and carefully pushes the blade in. He grimaces, sliding the knife downwards until he’s cut a path to the end of the scar. Five is silent in front of him as blood blooms from the cut. Diego reaches out to gently press around the wound to find where the device is. It’s small but he can feel it, slightly to the right of the cut. </p><p>“I’m sorry.” He whispers, pushing the knife back into the wound and using his other hand in an attempt to direct the device to its exit.</p><p>It’s a bloody affair, his fingers coated as he digs around. He grits his teeth. A small hiss from the boy is the only sign that he feels it at all. </p><p>“We’re almost done.” He promises, finally seeing the device surface.</p><p>He slowly brings the knife forward, pulling the tracker out along with it. He sucks in a deep breath, dropping the bloody items into the cup holder and reaching down with his dripping hands to his own shirt. He wipes the majority of the mess away, before pulling out another wipe and using it to clean the rest of it from his hands. He takes a deep breath, steeling himself as he picks up the threaded needle.</p><p>"I'm gonna stitch you up now." He says shakily, forcing his mind to shove his fear of needles into a box and throw it away. </p><p>He sucks in one more breath and gets to work, quickly and effectively stitching up the wound once again. After that's finished, he uses the last of the cleaning pads to wipe away the excess blood. He grabs a clean piece of gaze, placing it on top of the stitched cut and using a piece of medical tape to keep it in place. Once that’s done, he drops bonelessly into his seat. </p><p>“Thank you.” Five whispers, turning to face the man. </p><p>The boy’s face is pale, but other than that he looks almost entirely unaffected.</p><p>“Are you even fucking human?” Diego lowly remarks, languidly rubbing his bloody hands on his shirt. </p><p>“Not sure.” Five whispers, voice almost playful. </p><p>Diego’s mouth drops open, clearly he was the only one affected by this. </p><p>“You have the nerve to hide shit from me, even after we’ve been attacked multiple times, and I was beaten within an inch of my life, and you can’t even have the decency to feel a <em> little </em>pain from me digging around in your neck?”</p><p>It’s not that Diego wanted to hurt the kid, in fact he very much so did not want that. But the boy’s playful attitude makes him feel scorned all the more. </p><p>“Would you like me to feel pain?” Five asks, a teasing but shaky grin on his face.  </p><p>Diego blinks at the interaction, looking away from the boy, feeling absolutely dumbfounded. </p><p>“Look, I really am sorry I lied.” Five says, voice dropping to a guilty tone. Diego wonders if it’s real or not. He watches as the boy picks up the tracker. He stares at it for a moment, as if deep in thought. He reaches over, gaze still far away as he rolls down the window. He tosses the object out of the car. “Are we gonna be okay?”</p><p>“I don’t know. Honestly it doesn’t matter.” Diego says with an irritated shrug. “All that matters is getting to Ben’s and ridding myself of this mountain of shit that seems to follow me.”</p><p>Five is silent after that, face blank as he stares out the window. Diego reaches back into his backpack, pulling out his extra shirt. He rips the bloody one off, exchanging it for his black v-neck. He sighs, shutting his eyes for a moment and calming his nerves. </p><p>“We’ve got like a nine hour trip left, okay?”</p><p>Five doesn’t respond, moving to rest his head against the window instead. </p><p>“Why didn’t you tell me?” Diego questions, once again pulling the car back onto the road. </p><p>He glances over at the boy. His eyes are shut, tears tracking down his face. Diego gulps, reaching up to rub at the bridge of his nose. Just nine hours and they’ll be at Ben’s. </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Will there ever be a calm to this storm? Undecided</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Chapter 6</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Time passes slowly and yet fast all the same. They haven’t faced another issue within the last two hours, at least physically. After the last gas station, Diego has fifty dollars to his name, just enough to make it to Ben’s. He’s really hoping his brother is feeling particularly charitable. </p><p>Despite no serious addition of issues to add to their pile, there’s a cloud that’s settled between them. Something that's permeated the air, keeping Diego from speaking. Something in the shape of guilt. He peeks every now and then at his passenger, noticing how hard Five's leg is shaking and how tight his fingers are twisted in his pants. It’s clear the boy is anxious about something and the regret making its home in Diego’s chest reminds him that it’s probably all the shit he said.</p><p>
  <em> That was incredibly stupid and you put us both in danger. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> You have the nerve to hide shit from me, even after we’ve been attacked multiple times, and I was beaten within an inch of my life, and you can’t even have the decency to feel a little pain from me digging around in your neck. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> All that matters is getting to Ben’s and ridding myself of this mountain of shit that seems to follow me. </em>
</p><p>Diego grimaces at his own words, feeling like the biggest asshole in the world. He’s always been diseased with foot-in-mouth disorder, but putting that on a kid, especially a kid who had to deal with Reginald Hargreeves? It makes him feel a million times more shitty. He’s never been the most...articulate and more often than not spews shit he doesn’t mean, which is likely why he’s never been in a relationship longer than three months, but he doesn’t really feel like getting into <em> that </em> right now. Either way, he was being a shithead and that’s clear to all two of the car’s inhabitants. </p><p>His hands are starting to cramp from grasping the wheel so firmly. He twitches in his seat, shaking his hands out in an attempt to rid the ache. He glances over at his passenger once more. Five now looks particularly queasy, his face flushed and sweaty. </p><p>“Uh-how’s the neck?” Diego asks, clearing his throat that got used to not talking.</p><p>He fears the worst. That, after everything, even after cleaning the wound, Five still managed to pick up an infection. Diego would have to hurl himself off a cliff if the kid dies after he yelled at him. </p><p>“Fine.” Five croaks, his voice low and shaky. </p><p>Diego sighs, looking away. They’re taking quiet back roads again, so thankfully there haven’t been many other cars on the road. After all their pit stops and problems, it’s nearing two p.m. The sky is an afternoon bright blue. The clouds are wispy in the sky. Diego notices one that’s shaped like a baby and grimaces at the universe’s attempt to punish him further. He blinks over at his passenger. Five’s no baby, but he is a kid, only thirteen years old. What Diego would have given for someone to give a shit about him when he was a kid. If in his position, maybe he’d have been nervous to remove a tracker, especially one that acts like a shock collar. Maybe he’d be nervous that Reginald would somehow immediately know and swoop down, bringing him right back home where he’d beat him with his cane. Maybe he’d throw him back in the tub just to teach him a lesson. Five’s not just some bratty, selfish boy, he’s an abused child that’s been stuck with a psychotic man his entire life. A boy who’s been attacked repeatedly by people trying to take him back to the same man who had him chained up in a secret lab. He doesn’t deserve Diego’s shit. </p><p>“Look, Five-”</p><p>“Diego, there’s something else I have to tell you.” Five blurts out, cutting the man off.</p><p>Diego almost teases that he hopes it’s not another tracker, but holds his tongue from spewing out something clearly inappropriate and unwarranted. Besides, the look on the kid’s face is rather sobering. Five’s expression is positively devastated, torn between something Diego doesn’t know. </p><p>“Okay, what is it?” Diego asks steadily, despite the anxiety filling the pit of his stomach.</p><p>“I...uh…” Five trails off, hands trembling in his lap. He shakes his head, quickly looking away. “Never mind.”</p><p>The boy seems to deflate, crossing his arms over his chest. Diego remains quiet for a moment, in case Five changes his mind and decides to tell him whatever it is he needs to say. He’s not surprised the kid doesn’t feel particularly safe telling him something, especially after the way he reacted last time. </p><p>“I owe you an apology.” Diego starts, grimacing at the uncomfortable sensation that always comes along with talking about feelings. </p><p>Five doesn’t move from his current closed off position, a heavy breath the only sign that he’s listening.</p><p>“For someone who likes to pride himself on helping others, I’ve been really shitty to you. And you don’t deserve that.”</p><p>The boy’s shoulders raise and he shakes his head to himself.</p><p>“Nothing that’s happened these past few days was your fault and I know that. I’ve just been tired and stressed and frankly a little scared.” Diego gulps, feeling incredibly vulnerable in front of a kid of all people. </p><p>“I had no right to make you feel like I’m trying to get rid of you or to make you feel like this is all somehow your fault. It’s not and I swear to you, even knowing what I do now, I would still get you out of that place a million times over.”</p><p>Five whispers something under his breath, knees still nervously bobbing up and down.</p><p>“I’m sorry I hurt you, kid. I hope you can forgive me and if not, well, I understand that too.”</p><p>“No need.” Five says with a wave of his hand. He finally glances over at Diego, just a small peek before returning his attention to the outside world passing by. “I was-I’m just tired...and I guess…”</p><p>He takes a deep breath, fingers playing with the hem of his shirt. “I’m just-I’m just a little concerned what will happen to me if-when this all ends.”</p><p>Diego’s eyebrows furrow as he glances between the road and the kid. “What do you mean?”</p><p>“I don’t have anyone. My own parents didn’t want me.” Five mumbles, peering over at Diego and then back down to his lap. “I’d have nowhere to go if I-if we stop Hargreeves.”</p><p>“I promise we’ll figure something out for you.” Diego says softly, patting Five’s knee. “And I’m sure that’s not true, about your parents.”</p><p>Five looks up at that, expression one of curiosity. </p><p>“How would you know that?” He scoffs, although it comes out rather lighthearted and hopeful.</p><p>“You and I are a lot alike, kid.” Diego starts, glancing between the road and Five who’s staring back at him with a quirked brow. “I-I went through the same sort of shit, wondering why my parents didn’t want me. Why they left me with someone like...like Reginald.”</p><p>Five stiffens at that, eyes darting away from Diego’s face.</p><p>“The thing is, Five, we have no clue what our parents’ lives were like. Sometimes people just aren’t ready for kids, doesn’t mean they didn’t want us.”</p><p>Five appears to try and yet fail to hold laughter in, bringing his hand up to cover his mouth.</p><p>“Hey, I was being serious.” Diego grumbles, lowering himself in his seat.</p><p>“I know.” Five says, dropping his hand to expose a more composed expression. “It’s just that it-uh-it sounds like you’re...um- describing yourself. If you were to have kids, that is.”</p><p>“I know, I know. I’m shit with children, that’s been made very clear to me time and time again. But I promise, while you and I are together, I’ll try my best to do better, okay?”</p><p>“Sure.” Five says easily, sitting more comfortably in his seat now that the air’s been cleared.</p><p>The next few minutes are spent in amiable silence, until Diego breaks it with a heavy yawn.  </p><p>“Hey, you mind if I turn on the radio?” He asks, hoping music will wake him up.</p><p>Five offers a small shrug in response which Diego takes as a yes. He turns the rock station on. <em> More Than a Feeling </em>by Boston is playing. Lowering the windows and sticking a hand out, Diego begins to belt the lyrics. Five is seemingly entranced by the behavior, watching him curiously. </p><p>“Come on, kid, live a little.” Diego chuckles, motioning to his hand sailing through the windy air. </p><p>Despite a moment of hesitance, Five throws his own arm out. His fingers dance through the wind and he grins at Diego. The man can’t help the smile building on his own face. </p><p>“What was that song?” Five asks when the station moves to a commercial break. </p><p>“A classic, Five. <em> More Than a Feeling. </em>It was the first song I heard after I’d left the Academy.” Diego stares past the road, hand lowering to limply rest against the side of the car, deep in thought. “I was in a department store and they were playing a classic rock station. I lost my mind, didn’t know sounds like that could exist together. My first paycheck, I bought a radio and jammed the fuck out on all the songs I missed.”</p><p>He blinks back to the present, lightly smiling over at Five who scans his face with an expression Diego can’t quite decode. </p><p>“I guess that should have clued me in to how shitty I’d be with money, huh? But screw that, when this is all over, I’ll buy you a radio and teach you the classics.” He promises easily, fingers tapping against the outside of the car door.</p><p>Five eyes widen at that, looking between Diego and the radio. “I-uh-I thought you were planning to leave after we get to your brother’s.”</p><p>“I was being an asshole.” Diego admits, right hand tightening against the wheel again. “I don’t think it’s safe for either of us to stay in one place for long. I’m just hoping Ben can help me come up with some sort of plan and then whatever that is, we'll go from there. Either way, I won’t leave you until I’m sure you’re in safe hands.”</p><p>Five nods, albeit sadly. </p><p>Diego catches the expression, reaching up to scratch at his stubble. “Why do I feel like no matter how hard I try, I keep accidentally saying the wrong things?” </p><p>Five shakes his head. “No, uh-like I said, just tired.”</p><p>He manages a smile, although it comes off strained. </p><p>“Okay.” Diego says softly, allowing the music to move to the forefront of his thoughts instead of questions swirling in his head about what Five wanted to tell him earlier. </p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>Hours of driving blend together, Five sleeping through most of them and Diego wishing he was sleeping through most of them. The music worked for the most part, but he’s still completely exhausted, hoping and praying Ben has a comfy guest bed. They’re in Florida now and have been for a while. According to his phone, they’re getting close. Ben lives in a city called Coral Gables, right outside of Miami. </p><p>Diego turns into the neighborhood his brother apparently lives in, quickly coming to the conclusion that Ben is fucking loaded. Every single house they pass has a driveway that seems to go on for a mile until it reaches the mansion at the end. His mouth is wide as he glances between the driver side window and the passenger window, taking it all in. Five, who’s still asleep, is missing all the fun but Diego doesn’t have it in him to wake the kid. </p><p>“Jesus.” Diego whistles lowly to himself, as his eyes track the house numbers on the mailboxes. </p><p><em>1811. </em>He turns into the driveway, eyes widening at the beautiful oak trees arching above the path. He drives slowly across the bricks, in both an attempt to not wake Five and to slow his arrival. His stomach is now gurgling with anxiety, the thought of him walking up to that...mansion. Diego, who has fifty dollars to his name. Diego, who’s probably lost the only stable job he’s ever had, given the last time he’d disappeared for more than a day, Al said he’d fire him if it happened again. He gulps, pushing down his self-pity and parking the car at the end of the driveway. He looks up into the rearview mirror and attempts to fix his mess of hair. Now, he can’t help but think about how rough he looks. He can’t help but think about everything his brother probably already thinks about him plus whatever his appearance will add. </p><p>He glances over at Five who’s silently sleeping against the window and remembers this isn’t about him. This is about the kid and whatever Ben might think of him doesn’t matter right now. He steels himself, yanking the keys out. He tosses them into his backpack which he pulls over his arms. He gets out of the car, shutting the door as gently as possible and moving over to the passenger side. He slowly opens the door, catching Five’s head in his hand. </p><p>“Hey.” He whispers, reaching over with his free hand to unbuckle the kid. </p><p>He calls the boy’s name, voice a bit louder as he bends down. </p><p>“Dad.” Five mumbles, eyes rolling under his closed eyelids. </p><p>The breath is yanked from Diego’s lungs and his heart stops for a moment. He blinks, glancing around himself, unsure of what to make of that. He decides to ignore it, moving closer. He allows the kid’s head to fall against his shoulder as he slides him out of the seat and into his arms. Diego’s fit so he’d probably be able to carry most kids, but how easily Five fits in his arms is a bit concerning. He weighs very little and Diego’s heart only breaks more. He shuts the car door with his hip, carrying Five over to the marble stairs.</p><p>Upon reaching the door, he shoulders the doorbell which apparently has a camera on it. Diego feels even more self-conscious at the thought. He stands there for at least two minutes, shifting from foot to foot. The door finally opens, Ben’s clean-shaven, youthful face immediately drawn in horror and worry. </p><p>“Oh my God, is he dead?” He questions, eyes wide and mouth open.</p><p>“Uh-sleeping.” Diego says with an awkward tilt of a smile. </p><p>Ben deflates, shoulders dropping in relief. </p><p>“That’s-that’s good.” Ben whispers, glancing past Diego for a moment before stepping aside. “Come in.”</p><p>Diego does, boots stepping onto shiny tile floor. He looks around the entry room, completely taken aback. The staircase is huge at the end of the room, white marble all the way up to the second floor where the wall is a gorgeous mosaic. Diego doesn’t quite understand it, but appreciates nonetheless. The second floor branches off into two separate directions, two wooden doors across from each other at the top of the stairs. That’s as much as Diego can see, but he’s sure whatever is beyond those doors is just as magnificent. Ben leads them away from the stairs, through the archway to the right. He takes another right turn, down a long hallway. </p><p>“There’s a bedroom you can put him down in this way.” </p><p>Diego silently follows, taking in the pictures on the walls. Ben clearly has a family, a wife and three kids. Diego has to look away after the seventh photo, feeling suddenly nauseous. </p><p>“Here we are.” Ben says softly, entering one of the many rooms at the end of the hallway. </p><p>It’s surprisingly plain, save for the two pieces of artwork on the light blue walls. Diego carefully lowers Five to the bed. He easily pulls the flip-flops from the kid’s feet, dropping them to the floor. </p><p>“Do you have a first-aid kit?” He asks, glancing over at Ben whose eyes are locked on Five’s exposed neck.</p><p>“Uh-yeah.” Ben answers, blinking back up at Diego. </p><p>He disappears from the room. Diego lowers himself to the edge of the bed. He feels like he’ll drop any moment but Five’s wound definitely needs to be cleaned again. </p><p>It feels like forever before Ben returns, holding out a box for Diego to take. He accepts it with a small “thanks”, setting it on the bed next to the kid. He gently pulls the medical tape and old gauze away from Five’s wound. It looks rough and irritated, but Diego doesn’t expect much else with how new it still is. He can hear Ben inhaling sharply behind him. </p><p>“Uh-what is that?” His brother questions, leaning over Diego to get a closer look. </p><p>“Dad put a tracker in him.” Diego answers sharply, digging through the first-aid kit, grabbing wipes, antibacterial cream, and a big bandage. </p><p>Ben steps back, a quiet presence as Diego works. He cleans his hands, then Five’s neck, gently running the alcohol pad over the stitches. He dabs some cream onto the wound and seals it up with the bandage. </p><p>“All done.” Diego whispers, brushing the kid’s bangs out of his face. </p><p>He runs a hand through Five’s dirty hair absentmindedly as what Five said in his sleep rotates around in his head. The boy snuggles deeper into the bed, pulling Diego from his thoughts. He removes his hand, reaching down to the blanket at the end of the bed. He pulls it over the kid, making sure to keep it away from his bandage. He watches Five for a moment longer before stepping back, remembering Ben’s still in the room. He grabs the trash from the bed, turning to face his brother. </p><p>“You hungry?” Ben offers, wiping a strange look off his face. </p><p>“Starving.” Diego easily responds.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Chapter 7</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Okay so I have this problem where I have a clear outline of what I want to do and then I trample all over that and make my life a million times harder. Last chapter was not originally planned to go that way but alas, we will overcome. I wrote this chapter three different ways and I went back and forth on a couple different aspects. Hopefullyyyyy, you guys enjoy it!!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Diego feels strange, sitting on a bar stool at the counter and watching his brother make him some sort of fancy gluten free pizza. He’d asked Ben if he had some sort of allergy, but no he supposedly just likes the taste. Diego never could have foreseen any of his siblings becoming the sort of rich people that only eat gluten free shit. He almost wants to make fun of his brother for it but the gurgling in his stomach keeps him from doing so. Plus his brother is being surprisingly hospitable.</p><p>“Thanks for everything, Ben.” Diego mutters from where his head is resting in his hand.</p><p>His elbow is against the granite, arm trembling in exhaustion. His under eye keeps twitching which is proof enough that he should be sleeping, but he’s starving and frankly has a lot of questions for his brother. Even more than he did before arriving. </p><p>Ben hums, sending a small smile his way before putting the pizza in the oven. </p><p>“So those pictures in the hall, I assume that’s your family?” Diego wonders, dropping his head from his hand and reaching up to rub his eyes. </p><p>Ben shuts the oven door, turning to face his brother. He leans against the counter next to the stove, crossing his ankles in front of himself. </p><p>“Yeah, that’s my family.” He says softly, smiling lightly. </p><p>Diego rotates his wrist in the air, motioning for Ben to give him more information. </p><p>“Ah, well, my wife Jill and I met about six years after I left the Academy. I was in Virginia at the time working at Microsoft and she was there too, taking a year off from getting her masters in dentistry. We actually met at a grocery store, believe it or not.” He chuckles, fondly staring off into the distance. </p><p>“Wow, Microsoft and a dentist, explains the house.” Diego whistles, taking in his expensive surroundings once more. </p><p>His eyes finally land on his brother again, whose face is now bright red. Ben shyly shrugs in response. </p><p>“And your kids? How old are they?” Diego asks, nonchalantly looking down at his hands resting on the counter as if he doesn’t really care about the answer. </p><p>The fact of the matter is, he doesn’t know why he felt like specifically asking about the kids. Usually he tries to avoid the topic altogether, especially with annoying coworkers that base their entire personalities on their obsession with their kids. The problem is, for some reason, he’s been thinking about kids a lot more lately. He’s sure it’s just being around one that’s affecting his thoughts, but nonetheless it’s weird. </p><p>“We have a twelve year old boy and two girls. Ten and eight.” </p><p>Diego reels at that. He’s not particularly good at math but if Ben and his wife met six years after he left the Academy, that was eight years ago. </p><p>“Sorry, I guess I thought it was obvious from the pictures, but we adopted them. They’re blood siblings and they wanted to stay together so they had a hard time finding someone to take them in. We immediately fell in love with all three. It’ll be four years in November.” </p><p>Diego hums at that, looking up at his brother. He’s a good man, he shouldn’t have been dragged into this. Speaking of which- Diego opens his mouth to speak but is cut off by the beeping of the oven. Ben quickly breaks eye contact, twisting towards the stove. He pulls oven mitts on and opens the door, reaching in. </p><p>“Hey, uh- I’m gonna attempt to find my way through this labyrinth and check on Five, I’m sure he’s hungry too.” </p><p>Ben drops the pizza pan on the stove top rather loudly, quickly turning around. </p><p>“Uh-why don’t I actually? You should-you should just rest here.” </p><p>Diego quirks a brow, hands braced against the edge of the counter in preparation for him to get up. “I think it’d be better if it was me. He doesn’t exactly know who you are.”</p><p>Ben chuckles, although it comes off rather forced. “Sure.” He says with a wave of his mitted hand. He glances over at the time on the oven. “I should-uh-I should call my wife anyway.”</p><p>Diego nods, pushing himself off the stool. He heads out of the room, glancing back at Ben who’s watching him leave. </p><p>Okay, he’s willing to admit that interaction was a little strange. </p><p>He makes his way through the huge house, backtracking until he ends up in the front room. Ben’s strange, forced laugh echoes in his head as he walks down the hallway. He stops in front of the door at the end of the hall, taking a deep breath. He opens it as quietly as possible, peeking his head into the room. Five’s still asleep and clearly hadn’t been just saying he was tired earlier. Diego steps further into the room, stopping at the edge of the bed. He lowers his hand to the kid’s forehead, checking for any sign of a fever. There is none, just cold skin under his hand. He backs away, trying to decide whether it's better to wake Five or let him keep sleeping like the dead.</p><p>Five mumbles something in his sleep so Diego returns closer, bending down to hear better. He supposes maybe this is an infringement on Five’s privacy, but after the last time he spoke in his sleep, Diego's curious. </p><p>"I'm sorry." Five mutters.</p><p>Diego almost falls backwards in shock. It's the voice, the exact one from his own dreams, rather- nightmares. It’s the small voice he hears right before he falls backwards into oblivion. </p><p>Five must be in a nightmare of his own. He’s suddenly twitching in his sleep and whimpering into the comforter. Diego shakes out of his thoughts, recognizing that he is tired and probably just hearing shit at this point.</p><p>"Five." He whispers, reaching out to gently touch the kid’s arm. </p><p>The boy doesn't respond, starting to thrash and lowly beg someone in his nightmare to stop. Diego firmly grabs his arm, calling his name loudly. Five's eyes rip open, they're red and bloodshot. He pants as he furiously scans the room for intruders. His head lowers and he seems to calm once his eyes find Diego. </p><p>Diego lowers himself to sit at the edge of the bed. "Are you okay?" </p><p>"Yeah." Five croaks, refusing to take his eyes off the man. "Just a nightmare."</p><p>“Have those often?”</p><p>Five shrugs, finally looking away. “Just that one.” </p><p>“I have recurring nightmares too-” Diego starts but at the look on the kid’s face, he shuts his mouth. </p><p>It’s clear that in this moment, he’d want nothing more than to not talk about it. </p><p>“Anyway-you hungry? Ben made pizza.”</p><p>“I could eat.” Five mumbles, yawning. </p><p>Diego nods, stepping back so the kid can get up. Five pulls the blanket off and with it, his shirt flips up just barely and only for a second, but it’s enough for Diego to see a litany of bruises.</p><p>“What the hell was that?”</p><p>“What was what?” Five asks, shoving out of the bed, looking anywhere but Diego’s face. </p><p>“What were those bruises?” Diego questions, reaching out to grab at the kid but he easily sidesteps him. </p><p>“Don’t touch me.” Five hisses, folding his arms across his chest. </p><p>“Then tell me what those are, Five.”</p><p>Five defiantly sticks his chin up, glaring at Diego’s face. “No.”</p><p>Diego puts his hands on his hips, fixing the kid with an unimpressed look. Five rolls his eyes, walking past the man and out the door. </p><p>“Five, get back here right now.” Diego calls, following the boy out of the room.</p><p>Five’s already halfway down the hallway. He twists his head to look back at Diego, sticking out of his tongue. He’s not paying attention and runs right into Ben. </p><p>“Ah, shit.” He mumbles, shaking his head and stepping away from the man. </p><p>Ben grabs him by the shoulders to steady him but Five easily slides out from under his grasp, moving back towards Diego. </p><p>“What’s going on?” Ben asks, easy tone betrayed by the distressed expression on his face. </p><p>“Uh-Ben this is Five. Five, this is my brother Ben.” Diego introduces, motioning between the two. </p><p>Five mock salutes at his brother, a move that has Diego raising a brow at him. </p><p>“Where’s the pizza?” Five asks bluntly, glancing between Diego and Ben. </p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Diego watches as the kid basically nips at his slice, even after Diego’s already finished two pieces. No wonder he’s so skinny. They’re sitting side by side at the counter and Ben’s standing across from them, elbows bracketing his cup of water on the granite. </p><p>“So, how was the call with your wife?” Diego wonders aloud, in hopes of eliminating the awkward silence.</p><p>“The call with my wife-?” Ben seems to shake himself out of whatever he’s thinking about, breaking his stare from Five to look at his brother. “Ah- good.”</p><p>“Where is she?” Five questions, not looking up from his pizza. </p><p>“My wife?” At no response, Ben continues. “She and the kids are staying at her mom’s house right now.”</p><p>Five quirks a brow, blinking up at the man across the counter. “Why?”</p><p>“She doesn’t know about the situation and I wasn’t too sure...uh-safety wise with everything.”</p><p>“And what is the situation?” Five questions, squinting at the man.</p><p>“Okay, Five, I think that’s enough questions.” Diego cuts in, tapping his boot against Five’s leg. “How about you actually eat your food, instead of nibbling like a freaking hamster?”</p><p>Five glares up at him and takes an exaggeratedly tiny bite. Diego sighs, reaching up to massage the bridge of his nose. Ben watches the entire interaction as if he has them under a microscope. He glances behind himself at the clock on the stove, something Diego’s noticed him doing almost constantly. </p><p>“Got somewhere to be?” Five questions, voice sharp. </p><p>Diego feels rightly embarrassed and wonders if this is how parents feel when their kids act out in front of other people. </p><p>“Uh-no, just like to watch the time.”</p><p>Five hums loudly as if suspicious. “Diego, may I consult with you privately?”</p><p>“You may not.” Diego whispers sternly. “Eat your food.” </p><p>Five growls under his breath, but doesn’t say anything else, quietly returning to eating. Diego grimaces at his brother who seems shell-shocked by the kid’s behavior.  </p><p>“I’m sorry, he’s just tired.” Diego attempts as an explanation. </p><p>Five smiles widely through his food. </p><p>“It’s...okay.” Ben mumbles, leaving the counter to busy himself with something in the fridge. </p><p>As soon as Ben turns his back, Five drops his pizza, shoving his face in Diego’s. “We have to get out of here.”</p><p>“Stop.” Diego whispers back. </p><p>“This is a trap, Diego.” Five hisses, grabbing at the man’s shirt. </p><p>Diego gently untangles his hand from his shirt. “We’ll talk later. Eat your goddamn pizza.”</p><p>Five grumbles, pulling out of Diego’s grasp around his wrist. </p><p>“I’m done.” He says loudly, pushing his barely eaten pizza away. “Can Diego and I be excused?” </p><p>Ben shuts the fridge doors, glancing at the clock and then over to his guests. “Uh-sure. Diego, I can show you to one of the guest rooms upstairs.”</p><p>“Actually, I’d prefer we be in the same room.” Five says, before forcing a feigned pathetic, kicked-puppy look on his face. “I’m afraid of the dark.” </p><p>Ben can’t hide his open surprise at that, looking back and forth between the two. </p><p>“Uh...o-okay,” He stammers, clearly thrown for a loop. “Diego, you know where the room is, right?”</p><p>The man nods in response. He and Five get up from their seats, heading out of the kitchen. As soon as they’re out of sight, Diego grabs Five’s shoulder, steering him quicker through the house. </p><p>“What the hell was that?” He questions, hurriedly pulling Five through the front room and into the hallway. </p><p>“Your brother is acting suspicious.” Five says with an easy shrug.</p><p>“Maybe because you were basically interrogating him!” Diego whisper-shouts, following Five into the bedroom and shutting the door. </p><p>Five levels him with an unimpressed look.</p><p>“Okay, fine, I admit he is acting strange.” Diego offers, rubbing his own arm nervously. “But, maybe he’s just like that? I mean I haven’t seen him in fourteen years.”</p><p>“We need to get out of here.” Five repeats, bouncing on his heels. </p><p>“And go where, Five?” Diego questions, heavily dropping to the edge of the bed. “We’ve gotten nothing from this trip. I don’t have a passport, we have no money left, no plan and frankly I’m too tired to drive even if we had somewhere to go.”</p><p>Five grumbles something to himself, starting to anxiously pace. He seems to be working through some sort of calculation in his head. </p><p>“Fine, you sleep.” He finally says, although it looks as though it physically pains him to concede. “I’ll keep watch. We leave as soon as you wake up.”</p><p>Diego’s not an idiot, it’s clear his brother isn’t being truthful and right now they can’t afford a misstep. If Ben calls the police, he’s done for and so is Five. As much as he had banked on this being their Hail-Mary, as much as he yearns for his brother to believe him and want to help him, the odds are stacked against them in that department. </p><p>“Where will we go?” He asks, because he’s fresh out of ideas and he has about ten dollars to his name at this point.</p><p>“I don’t know and I don’t care.” Five answers, stopping his pacing to stand in front of Diego. “We’ll walk if we have to, but your brother is going to sell us out, if he hasn’t already.”</p><p>Diego flinches at that, looking away from the kid’s face. </p><p>“I...I’m sorry, Diego.” The boy whispers, voice suddenly much softer than before. </p><p>“It was my own fault for believing things could change.” Diego mutters, forcing his face blank. “I’m sorry I dragged us so far for nothing.”</p><p>“No.” Five says sternly, eyes searching the man’s face. “<em>I'</em><em>m </em> sorry.”</p><p>Diego wants to ask what he means, but he’s too fucking tired. He lays back on the bed, his eyes quickly fluttering shut. He can only hold onto his consciousness for a moment longer, before he’s slipping into a deep sleep. </p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Diego wakes with a jolt to Five shouting his name and roughly shaking him. He startles, sitting up and quickly taking stock of the room. </p><p>“What’s-what’s going on?” He croaks, grabbing Five’s arm in an attempt of calming him. </p><p>The boy’s eyes are wide as he tries to yank Diego out of the bed. </p><p>“Reginald’s coming. I-I tried to talk to your brother. I wanted to-I wanted to make sure for your sake. Reginald told him about us, he’s the reason your brother called when we were in the motel. He thought you kidnapped me. Har-Hargreeves knows we’re here and he’s close. We-we have to go right now.” Five sputters out, voice high pitched and terrified as he pulls at Diego. </p><p>The man’s head spins as he tries to make out what Five just hurriedly unloaded on him. He pushes aside his questions, swiftly getting out of the bed. He pulls his boots on. He grabs his keys from his backpack and shoves it over his shoulders. He tries to slow his racing heart, but it only seems to speed more as he stumbles after Five out of the room. They find themselves back in the front room where Ben is standing, likely awaiting their father’s arrival.</p><p>“Diego…” He starts, glancing between his brother and the kid. </p><p>His eyebrows are scrunched in confusion. Diego thinks he must be questioning why Five clearly decided to warn his <em> kidnapper.  </em></p><p>“Diego, I just want to help you.” Ben offers, voice so low it’s almost a whisper. </p><p>Diego’s chest aches with that familiar feeling of heartbreak that he’s come to associate with his siblings and their ceaseless distrust of him. </p><p>Diego pushes his brother away from the door, gently pulling Five along with him. “You have no fucking idea what you’re doing, Ben.” </p><p>“Stop.” Ben says louder, grabbing at Five to pull him back. “I can’t let you take him.”</p><p>Diego heavily exhales, heart palpitating in his chest. </p><p>“Let him go.” Diego demands, face twitching with emotion. “Let him go right fucking now.”</p><p>Five glances between the two, panicking as he tries to remove Ben’s hand that’s tangled in his shirt. Ben holds his ground, attempting to further pull the kid towards him. A tear rolls down Diego’s face as he drops his hold on Five. He sucks in a deep breath and punches his brother in the face. Ben releases Five in shock, falling backwards to the ground. </p><p>“I’m sorry.” Is all Diego can offer as he swiftly opens the door and pulls Five outside with him. </p><p>He slams the door shut, taking a step forward only to run into Five’s rigid back. He easily finds what the kid is staring at. His father and a woman are getting out of a car on the left side of the driveway. Diego glances over to his car, it’s on the right side. The vehicles are probably thirty feet away from each other. </p><p>“Fucking run.” He whispers to Five, shoving him forward. </p><p>They stumble down the stairs, racing to the car. Diego yanks his own door open, tossing his backpack and shoving the keys into the ignition. He checks to make sure Five’s fully in the car, before he frantically puts the car in reverse and slams his foot down against the gas. The car slides against the bricked ground as he whips it in a half circle. He puts in drive, once again heavily setting his foot on the gas.</p><p>“I’m sorry Diego…” Five whispers from the passenger seat, choking up. </p><p>Diego momentarily glances between Five and the rearview mirror. Reginald and the woman are watching the car as it leaves, looking entirely unperturbed. The woman raises her hand into the air and suddenly the car stops in place. Both Diego and Five’s heads whip forward and then bang back against their seats. The tires squeal against the ground as Diego desperately tries to push down even harder on the gas. He glances back up to his mirror. The woman raises her hand and with it the car rises from the ground. They’re so high that trying to escape at this point would likely only result in broken legs. </p><p>“Shit!” Diego shouts in horror, looking over at Five. </p><p>The kid appears to be resigned which is enough to make Diego feel a million times more concerned. </p><p>“Buckle!” He yells, immediately reaching over to buckle Five when the kid doesn’t so much as twitch. </p><p>He buckles himself with trembling fingers. There’s seconds of reprieve, seconds that he watches the woman’s arm remain raised, seconds until she slowly turns her hand, the car turning with her. She suddenly twists her fist. The car slams downwards towards the ground, hitting the driver’s side first. </p><p>Diego, somehow through the unexpected momentum, thrusts out his hand in front of Five’s face before the windows explode as the car impacts, glass shattering into his own face and his arm. He slams down against the driver’s side door, head just barely missing the ground through the shattered window as his seat belt retracts, pulling him tight. His arm is whipped down away from Five with a sick crack. The breath is knocked from his lungs, but he doesn’t have time to consider that as the car begins to roll. His eyes shut tightly as he attempts to brace. Somewhere between the rolls, he blacks out. </p><p>He wakes what feels like seconds later, hanging upside down in the driver’s seat. His left eye burns as he blinks and there's spots in his vision. He chokes out a breath, his chest expanding and contracting harshly. His right arm hangs limply and as he moves to flex it, he hisses. Broken. His head achingly turns, blood rushing as his open eye lands on Five. The boy’s hanging as well, his face turned away. </p><p>“F-Five.” He croaks, left hand searching for his seat-belt buckle. </p><p>He finds it and shoves his thumb down, unclicking the device. He falls from the seat, crashing down to the roof. He cries out as he has to use both arms to catch himself. The car door is partially crushed making his attempts to open it more difficult than his shaken brain can handle. He ends up shoving his left shoulder against it instead, begging someone, anyone to help him. Something seems to hear his call because his next shove results in the door twisting open and he crawls out onto dirt. He clutches his broken, bloody arm to his chest as he scrambles up. The car is partly on the driveway, partly off, with the front between two oak trees. The car is only halfway down the bricked path. Fuck rich people and their long driveways, he languidly thinks as he glances back to the car. His vision swims and he falls back to the ground, vomiting up the pizza from earlier. It burns his throat, tears pricking at his eyes. He feels drunk and not in a good way.</p><p>“Five.” He whispers to himself, remembering why he tried so damn hard to get out of the car in the first place. </p><p>He glances down the driveway through blurry eyes. There’s two figures slowly walking in the distance. He can’t tell if they’re heading towards or away from them, but he’s willing to hazard a guess. He starts to crawl across the ground, broken arm clutched to his chest. He must look rather pathetic, he thinks, as his left hand uses the dirt and occasional roots to pull himself away from the driver side door. He stops for a moment, taking a second to get air into his lungs, his vision no longer shaky like a ship in a storm. He attempts to push himself to his feet once more. His stomach lurches, but he forces the nausea away, locking it into the back of his mind. He stumbles over the rest of the way to the passenger door. He lowers back to his knees, looking through the shattered window. Five seems to be conscious but dazed.</p><p>“Hey.” Diego calls, reaching a hand out to touch the boy’s face. </p><p>Five glances at him, a rogue piece of glass in his cheek. Diego wonders how much glass he has in his own face, but he doesn’t have time to reflect on the myriad of sharp pain roaming through his body.</p><p>“I’m gonna...I’m gonna try to get you out, o-okay?” Diego promises, hand reaching out to grasp the door handle. </p><p>He pulls but the door doesn’t budge. </p><p>“Hey, Five. I need you lucid.” He says, choking back his stutter. </p><p>He reaches out once more, gently patting the kid’s face. </p><p>“I need...I need you to help me open this door.” </p><p>Five blinks over at him and whispers some sort of an agreement. He starts to move albeit sluggishly.  He shakily reaches out, bracing both hands against the door. </p><p>“That’s my boy.” Diego encourages, keeping his grip against the door handle.</p><p>Five’s eyes jump back to Diego’s. He scans his face for a moment before blinking back to the door, shoving against it. Between the two of them, the door is pulled out. Diego wastes no time moving around it and starting to work on unbuckling the kid. Small, cold hands find his own, grabbing at him.</p><p>“Di-Diego...you should run.” Five whispers, straining against the seat-belt keeping him stuck in place. </p><p>“Like hell.” The man mumbles back. “Brace yourself.”</p><p>As the seat-belt unbuckles with a click, Five falls, hands barely catching himself. Diego pulls him the rest of the way out of the car and onto the ground. </p><p>“Is anything broken?” Diego softly asks, immediately patting the kid down. </p><p>“I..I don’t think so. My head…” </p><p>Diego nods, gently inspecting the kid’s head, moving his bangs out of his face. There’s no external damage, in fact the boy seems to be in rather decent shape after such a crash. He’s probably just shaken, at least that’s what Diego hopes. But with the way he’s lulling his head, it's unlikely he’ll be able to walk as quickly as they need to. </p><p>Diego glances back down the driveway, his father and the woman are making quick progress, they’ll be here within moments. Diego’s decision is an easy one. He could leave Five, the boy has clearly been far more trouble than Diego expected. He could save himself, he’s sure the two approaching them are far more concerned with Five than him. Instead, he reaches down, one arm under the boy’s knees and one around his back and lifts. He grimaces at the weight on his arm, but he doesn’t care. He takes one step and then another. </p><p>“Diego, leave me.” Five begs, hand tightly gripping the man’s shirt. “Please, Diego, you-you don’t understand.”</p><p>Diego just holds him tighter, walking faster. “We’re gonna get out of here, okay? Your head’s just a little shaken, but you’ll be okay.”</p><p>“No, Diego, I’m-”</p><p>And just like that, Diego’s ripped backwards, Five falling from his arms. The force from his dreams sends him flying against a tree. The pressure disappears and he falls face first to the ground. He cries out as his face slams into brick and his broken arm makes contact. He sluggishly raises his head, blood pouring down from his nose. He tries to relearn how to breathe, slowly looking around, heart hammering in his chest. His father and the woman are watching him peculiarly as they walk towards Five. His father who he hasn’t seen in fourteen years, his father who he hoped he would never see again unless it was behind prison bars. His father who’s now forcing Five up from the ground, holding him tightly around the shoulder, and leading him over to where Diego is still lying. </p><p>Diego slowly and shakily pushes himself up, settling on to his knees. The woman twitches her fingers as she approaches and he can feel the tease of power around him, warning him to remain in the same position. He feels particularly vulnerable, not because he’s being forced to his knees on the ground. No, it’s something else. It’s the look of complete horror on the kid’s face that leaves him feeling absolutely fucking defenseless. </p><p>“Diego.” Reginald greets a few feet away, with Five tightly tucked into his right side and the woman to his left. </p><p>“Father.” Diego says sharply, eyes remaining on the kid rather than gracing his father with his full attention.</p><p>“This was a rather amusing test, now wasn’t it?” His father questions, lightly shaking Five’s shoulder. </p><p>The boy flinches, face downcast as he refuses to look anywhere but the ground. Diego glances between the two, eyebrows pinched in confusion. </p><p>“An utterly disappointing failure no less.”</p><p>Five peers up at that, mouth moving to open. Reginald holds the pointer finger of his free hand up. </p><p>“The death of Number Eight marked failure enough and then to find your chip was removed.”</p><p>The hand on Five’s shoulder suddenly moves up, pinching at the wound on his neck. He squeaks out a small cry, hand reaching up to grab at Reginald’s wrist. Diego moves to lunge up from the ground but is easily forced back to his knees by a twitch of the woman’s hand. </p><p>“I suppose you did beat each of the challenges assigned to you, there is merit in that.” Reginald remarks, adjusting his hand back to the boy’s shoulder. </p><p>Five stature remains just as sharp and coiled, his eyes flickering between Diego and the ground before him, never settling for more than a moment. Diego quietly listens, unsure if his brain is just lagging or if he really has no fucking clue what’s happening. </p><p>“And for the other portion of your <em> examination, </em>did you acquire the information you were expected to?”</p><p>“Yes.” Five says quickly. </p><p>“And-?” Reginald motions with his hand to continue.</p><p>“And he doesn’t know anything. He’s nowhere close to it. He thinks it’s the serum you gave him as a kid. He doesn’t even know-”</p><p>Reginald’s fingers dig into Five’s shoulder, effectively silencing him. Diego’s heart stutters, he can’t remember the last time he breathed. He feels like someone will jump out any second and yell that he’s being pranked. Or even better, his alarm will go off and he’ll wake up in his apartment and it was all some elaborate nightmare. But there’s no one hopping out of the bushes, there’s no alarm clock. He can only remain, knees digging into brick and face blank as he tries to rewire his brain in a way that can make sense of all of this- this <em> betrayal. </em></p><p>“He knows nothing." Reginald repeats, voice taunting. "And I assume that’s with a lack of misdirection from yourself?”</p><p>Diego’s mind is filled with moments from the past few days, moments that should have clued him in. Moments like Five fixing his pages of evidence and studying them. Moments like a kid easily beating a group of armed police officers and then convincing Diego to leave. Moments like Five asking how he planned to use the evidence and if he told anyone about it all. Moments like the fight with Number Six that seemed almost staged. Moments like Five feeling guilty and trying to convince Diego to not get his brother involved. Moments like his surprise at the arrival of Number Eight so soon and his horror at his death. Moments like him not immediately telling Diego about the tracker. Moments like him attempting to tell Diego something multiple times, but falling silent and nervous instead. </p><p>Everything’s suddenly clear now. It was all just one big game that everyone was clued into, everyone but Diego. The disillusionment he feels is sickening. White hot shame floods him at his stupidity. He'd thought Five was suspicious from the beginning but when he later discovered his powers, he let that explain away most of his distrust. Any other dubious or strange actions, he let the kid's likely abuse and lack of social clues explain that. And now he realizes just how big of a fool he is.</p><p>He blinks back to the current conversation. Five says yes, that there was no misdirection on his part, that Diego’s presumptions, albeit apparently fake ones, are his own. He says it steadily, he says it like it’s the truth. He’s good at lying, Diego surmises. He wants to laugh, he wants to fall completely to the ground and just chuckle into it until he can’t breathe anymore. He’d felt bad for the kid, he’d gone to the moon and back for him. He’d given his life up for him. And it’s funny. It’s funny that life has granted him this motif of betrayal and disappointment. That after he bared his soul to this kid, told him that despite everything, he still believes in goodness, here he is once again being proven wrong. How many fucking times will he have to have it shoved into his face for him to finally understand that the world is cruel, that there is no one good left?</p><p>Reginald chuckling brings him right out of his callous thoughts.</p><p>“Ah, I see what’s happened. I overestimated you, as I once did him as well.” His father throws his hand out motioning to him. Diego can tell by the tone of his voice that he’s growing incredibly angry. His shoulders tremble at the thought and he notices Five’s do as well. </p><p>“After everything, after your insistence that this job would be easy for you, you still formed a bond with him after what-? Three fucking days?”  Reginald hisses, grabbing Five and pulling him so that they’re face-to-face. “Did you really think that you could just run away with him? That you could remove the tracker and I’d let you be? You’d be mistaken, boy. You’re <em> lucky </em> I called Benjamin, you’re <em> lucky </em> I knew Diego couldn’t help himself from wanting to see his brother and you’d be forced to tag along. You’re <em> lucky </em>I caught you both before you ran again. Because if I hadn’t, this would have been far more messy.”</p><p>Five is fully trembling at this point as Reginald towers over him. Despite everything, despite being completely and totally played, Diego still feels for the boy. </p><p>“He-he doesn’t know anything I swear!” Five cries, voice high pitched with emotion. “There’s no reason to-”</p><p>“By God, Number Five, you are going to remove that last final stain from your lineage. You want to pass this test,” Reginald spits, roughly shaking the boy. “You’ll do what you have always been expected to do at the end of this.”</p><p>He motions to the woman who with a flick of the wrist, pins Diego to the tree. He gulps at the air, trying to replace what was stolen from his lungs by the unexpected move. He watches as Reginald retrieves a pocket knife from his pants and lowers it into the kid’s hand. </p><p>“Carotid artery, as you’ve been taught.” He says without leaving room for argument, as he twists Five back around to face the tree and the man pinned to it. </p><p>There’s tears streaming down his pale face. Diego blinks at that, surprised to find such emotion. The pressure against him strengthens, his neck being forced back towards the tree. He can feel his veins popping out, can feel his broken nose more clearly. The blood itches above his lip. His eye burns. It’s his nightmare, but real now. It’s a fitting end, he supposes, a nightmare of a life ending with a recurring nightmare come true. It’s poetic, in a depressing sort of way. Carotid arteries are fast, he knows this, and he can appreciate that at least it’ll be quick. He can feel Five close to him, can hear his almost silent sobbing. The boy has to step up onto the stump next to the tree to be at a high enough level to face Diego. He suddenly seems calm, the crying all but subsided. Diego sees himself a bit in that action, he’s always strangely calm right before the kill. </p><p>“I’m sorry.” Five whispers. </p><p>The betrayal is still sharp in Diego's chest, sharper than the sting of any knife. He shuts both eyes fully, accepting his fate. Strangely, though, instead of his neck, he feels something slam into his chest. Something flat, not sharp. He opens his eye, catching Five's soft and apologetic expression. And suddenly he’s flailing backwards, shouts from his father and the woman somewhere in the distance. He swears he can even hear his brother’s voice somewhere far off. He’s falling deeper when his father’s face suddenly takes the place next to the kid’s. He reaches up, despite everything. The hole of the present disappears as he descends into darkness for a few moments. Colors abruptly dance around him and he can sense the ground coming quick. He braces himself, eyes tightly screwing shut. </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Lucky chapter number seven! This chapter is the whole reason I wrote this story to begin with so hopefully it came out decent!</p><p>If you guys are confused, well that is no bueno. But also, hopefully things will become more clear as we continue!</p><p>Was there a million other moments that should have clued Diego in? Yes, but there were too many to mention them all.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Chapter 8</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em> <b>One Year Earlier</b> </em>
</p><p>Five’s back hits the matted floor hard. The breath is knocked from his lungs and there’s stars in his vision. He blinks up at Ten who’s smirking down at him and then over to the others that are busy laughing. </p><p>“You’re telling me out of the five of us, Hargreeves chose him?” Eight chuckles. </p><p>“Clearly he just wants an excuse for us to beat the shit out of the little bastard.” Six teases from where she’s sitting on the bench against the wall. </p><p>“You’ve got a year to get your shit together, kid.” Ten says, expression suddenly less apathetic as she offers a hand.</p><p>Five moves to push himself up instead, knowing from experience that Ten’s offer is just some sort of trick to further taunt him. </p><p>“Oh, wow so self-sufficient.” Seven quips, whistling in false astonishment. “No wonder Reginald gave <em> him </em> the big boy task.” </p><p>Five ignores the jab, steadying himself on shaky legs and silently walking past Ten. He makes it about a foot before he’s yanked back by the familiar force he’s grown to despise. He slams back against the matted wall with a yelp and then falls to all fours as the power dissipates. The laughing is back again and his blood boils. If he wasn’t utterly exhausted from spatial jumping so much, he’d warp onto each of their backs and strangle them. He keeps his head down, refusing to glance up at Ten’s stupid, arrogant face. He knows the second he moves to stand again, she’ll just force him back down. It’s all power play to her, it’s all it is to any of them. Especially as of late. Jealousy and animosity are not hot commodities around here.</p><p>“Jesus, pathetic.” Ten says lowly. “You don’t deserve this job. I should get to squeeze the life from that bastard, if anyone deserves to, it’s me. I’m the strongest and Hargreeves fucking knows it.” </p><p>Five flinches at the vehemence of her words, but he remains silent. As he expects, they all descend into fights between one another, each claiming to deserve the assignment more than the rest. He remains in his spot, barely listening to their arguments, until the bell rings signifying training is over. He stays a moment longer, until he’s sure he’s heard them all scatter from the room. He peeks up from under his sweaty bangs, sighing and carefully pushing himself up from the ground. He grimaces at the pain in his back, reaching behind himself to gently rub at the future site of a new bruise to add to his collection.</p><p>He winces at the sound of his name being shouted. He’s not surprised the others tattled on him, in fact he expected it. But that doesn’t make the consequences of his failure any more appealing. He drags his feet, wishing he could cower, wishing his stupid powers could be useful for once and get him out of his impending punishment. He leaves the training room, finding Reginald standing in front of the door with the others gathered behind him, watching. For a group of adults, they all act like children, snickering behind their hands at Five’s fate. The boy gulps, shoulders hunched as he looks up into Reginald’s sharp stare. </p><p>“Failure will not be tolerated, Number Five. You have been made aware of the implications of failing your forthcoming <em> examination, </em>have you not?” Reginald questions, voice far from forgiving.</p><p>“Yes.” Five says, voice strong despite his trembling hands. </p><p>“What did you just say?” Reginald grounds out, jaw clenching. </p><p>“Yes-yes, sir.” Five corrects himself, quickly glancing between Reginald and the others who are watching gleefully. </p><p>Reginald grabs his jaw tightly. “You look me in the eyes when you speak to me. That just added another hour to your punishment. Do something like that again and I’ll add two.”</p><p>Five wants to cry. Every fucking time he gets in trouble, which is more often than not these days, he always makes some sort of stupid mistake. It differs each time. Sometimes it’s him nervously tapping his foot against the floor, sometimes it’s too heavy of a breath, sometimes it’s the simple act of him accidentally looking away before he remembers no one will help him. </p><p>He steels himself, tightly forcing his teeth together to keep them from anxiously chattering. </p><p>“Go.” </p><p>It’s said so sharply, so harshly that Five can’t help the small flinch as he walks past Reginald towards his sentence. He heads down the basement corridor, until he reaches the door, the door that at this point should just be labeled ‘Number Five’s Torture Room.’ He shudders through the sob building in his chest as he pushes the door open. His eyes immediately catch on what’s awaiting him at the end of the small room. It’s an old chest freezer, something that Five presumes most wouldn’t spare a second glance in normal circumstances. But in his, it’s one of the most menacing objects in existence. He stills in the doorway, mouth dry. Full body trembles accost him and his teeth chatter, despite his better attempts to control his reaction. </p><p>Reginald shoves him further into the room. He stumbles on his feet, wishing more than anything that for once in his life, he’d be afforded even a scrap of mercy. But as Reginald raises the top of the freezer, he remembers his place and what he is to the man and what he will always be. He’s a weapon and when weapons don’t work the way they’re expected to, they’re taken in to be <em> fixed </em>. </p><p>He climbs in, submitting. Defiance in this household will only be met with swift retribution ten times worse. Five knows this best, his rebellious disposition a constant, unwelcome companion. The claustrophobia grabs him as soon as he settles at the bottom of the chest. It doesn’t matter that the door is still open, it doesn’t matter that it soon won’t be any longer. He could sit in this spot, with the door open, for hours and it’d be punishment enough, but that would be too charitable. He shuts his eyes, wrapping his arms around himself in preparation. </p><p>“Two hours.” Reginald reminds him, voice still stern and pitiless. “I’ll be watching your tracker, you know what happens if you try to spatial jump.” </p><p>Five nods, eyes screwing shut tighter and fingernails digging into the backs of his arms. The door slams shut and the locks click outside. The sound is final and enough for the sob to bubble out uncontrollably. Five cries loudly as he maneuvers to lay on his side, curling into a fetal position. He keeps his eyes closed through the move, the dark past his eyelids far from tempting. His arms tremble where he hugs himself. </p><p>He taps into his best coping mechanism - his imagination. He sniffles as he imagines himself somewhere safe and warm and bright. It's taken him years of hard work and dedication to figure out how to best calm himself. His picturesque surroundings are almost perfect. Suddenly an unwelcome visitor pops up in his dreamscape forcing his thoughts to drift to the picture Reginald had shown him a week ago, the picture of a man loitering late at night outside one of the labs. Gritting his teeth, a rogue particularly fierce sob steals the breath from his lungs. He shakily inhales, crying dissipating as his face twists up. Fear is a road that can easily deviate towards anger and resentment so Five grabs onto the feelings, focusing on the man in his daydream. He hates <em> Diego. </em>He hates him more than he hates this stupid freezer, more than he hates his housemates, more than he hates Reginald. He hates him for a lot of reasons, reasons he’s willing to delve deep into if only for the sake of distraction. Of course there’s the most obvious reason, but he’s thought about that much too many times in this exact place for it to be diverting enough to keep his attention. </p><p>So he focuses on the most recent of offenses instead. The bastard’s been busy as of late, getting closer and closer to figuring out things he shouldn’t. So busy that he’s given Hargreeves the great idea of making him an integral part of Five’s big <em> assessment</em>. It wasn’t enough for Five to have to go up against the strongest of Reginald’s experiments. He’s now expected to perform some sort of reconnaissance mission as well, something that the investors were very excited to hear about. He supposes it makes sense for his test to be one including the compilation of intel, considering Reginald’s goals. But Five thinks this whole charade is not so much for the benefit of the investors as it is for some sick humor Reginald finds in the situation. If Diego wasn’t involved, Five’s sure he wouldn’t be the first pick for this type of mission, especially considering how his powers compare to someone like Number Ten. In the end, it doesn’t really matter the purpose, not when Five has far more important things to contemplate. This is as perfect a time as any for him to continue pondering about his stratagem.  </p><p>The <em> one </em> thing he can appreciate about this situation with Diego, the one thing that can make up for his housemates’ unforgiving rage and Reginald’s expectations, is that he’s been given a potential escape route. </p><p>After this whole thing is over, it’s been insinuated that Five’s expected to finish off Reginald’s greatest <em> headache. </em>It comes as no surprise that Hargreeves is willing to have his own son killed or that he finds some sadistic satisfaction in forcing Five to be the one to do it, but the problem is Five hasn’t killed before. He knows how and it’d probably be rather easy, one jump onto someone’s back and a knife to the carotid. But even that thought makes him feel queasy. As much as he loathes Diego and the entire idea of having to play the scared victim to him, he still doesn’t want to end his life. It’s one thing to play him and use him for some contrived test and another entirely for Five to murder him. And it’s not like he feels a connection to the man, nothing past the nightmares Diego often has a starring role in. He hates him, he really truly does. But he doesn’t think of himself as a coldblooded killer, or a killer in any capacity, as much as Reginald would find amusement in that.</p><p>He realizes he’s getting off track. <em> The plan. </em> Five doesn't have all the details as of yet. The most he knows is that there will be varying degrees of obstacles and he will be expected to collect information all while running away (road-tripping) in an attempt of authenticity. But, he can hazard a guess which of the others he'll have to fight and based off the glance he'd gotten of Reginald’s journal yesterday, there will likely be a maximum of three days afforded to him to complete his tasks. It's likely in that case, that the <em> challenges </em>will be spaced out, one each day if he were to make an educated assumption. Therefore if Five plans it perfectly, he can make his escape. After he's taken out the third opponent and convinced Reginald of his obedience towards the task, he'll have hopefully already made Diego feel for him enough to help him remove the chip so he can jump somewhere far as fuck away. Of course this relies on quite a few variables, but he has a year to figure those logistics out. </p><p>He sets out to do it anyway, he has the time. The next hour and a half of solitary darkness is spent in extensive day dreams of hypotheticals. He thinks of every possible place he can go once he’s free. He finds that he’s not particular on the where as long as it amounts to not here. </p><p>Reginald finally lets him out after what must have been longer than two hours. He trudges upstairs, rubbing at his tearstained face. His stomach growls, it’s the second day in a row he’s missed dinner. He shuts his bedroom door behind himself, wanting nothing more than to collapse. He decides on a shower instead. He peels his sweaty shirt off, accidentally catching himself in his cracked mirror. He hesitantly glances at his reflection. His pale skin is marked with constellations of bruises, ranging in colors. He runs his hand across his stomach. He’s thankful that at least Reginald has lessened on the extractions lately. He could do without a needle for the rest of his life, but he’s aware that’s probably too much to ask. He turns his body, twisting his head to see his back in the mirror. A dark bruise is already forming to join along with the rest. He grimaces at his reflection, at the red-rimmed distant eyes staring back at him.</p><p>One year. Just one more year and he’ll escape this shithole. </p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Diego lands on both feet, surprisingly in one piece. Well a bit of a broken up piece, but small mercies. It's dark, the only light illuminating downwards from the Moon. He blinks through the burning in his left eye, allowing himself a moment to readjust to the dark. He glances around, finding himself in an alley. </p><p>The sound of a wheeze spurs him, eyes darting down to find a man lying in a pool of his own blood, throat lacerated. He gurgles, blood bubbling past his lips as he stares up with wide eyes. The word "rapist" is drawn out with the man's own blood on the concrete above his head. </p><p>Diego remembers this day, this case had taken him a few months to crack. Hours upon hours of sleuthing and stalking leading up to Diego finding the man in the act. He'd stopped following the bastard solely during work hours and unfortunately that's how he found him almost a moment too late in the alley proving his guilt. Diego had thankfully rescued the victim before it'd gotten too far, but that wasn't enough to keep him from slicing the serial rapist’s neck as soon as the person had run off and letting the son of a bitch bleed out all over himself. </p><p>He remembers this day, it was probably about a year ago. Which <em> should </em>be impossible, but lately impossible hasn’t quite been in his vocabulary. He glances around the alley once more, realizing he's probably been here too long. He takes one last look at the dying man, finding his knife on the ground next to him. He snatches it up with his left hand and starts to run. Holding his aching, broken arm to his chest, he slides through the space in a broken chain link fence and slinks through the dark alleys, following the familiar path back home.</p><p>He finds himself in front of his apartment door, huffing in an attempt to catch his breath. Normally a run from the scene wouldn't be quite so harrowing. However, the million thoughts battling for his attention making him anxious plus his injuries plus running equaled a not-so-fun journey back home. He can barely remember how he got here, still feeling dazed by the shitstorm that’s become his life. He shoves his hand into his pocket before belatedly remembering his keys are still likely dangling from the ignition in his destroyed car which is...in the future now. Despite this, his fingers brush against something. At the strange feeling of the object, his eyebrows scrunch. He pulls it out of his pocket, gasping at the sight of it. Holding the small crochet heart in his hand, his fingers close around it to lightly clutch it. He’d thought he’d lost this forever. His mother had made it for him and secretly slipped it into his pocket when Reginald wasn’t looking. He’d kept it on him at all times, hidden in his pocket. It was like his own private protection, his mother’s love a constant reminder he’d survive Reginald. When he’d finally escaped the Academy, he’d lost the object and he’d been too much of a coward to try to sneak back into the house and look for it. He’d cried his first night away from home, thinking about his mother and the only thing he’d ever had of hers seemingly lost forever. </p><p>There’s a tickle in the back of his throat and his eyes are turning suspiciously blurry. Five must have found it at the Academy and must have been holding onto it, slipping it into Diego’s pocket when he’d pretended like he was going to kill him. The amalgamation of emotions weaving themselves in his chest becomes even more confusing and painful. Why would the kid do that? </p><p>He decides he can contemplate that later after he’s in the warmth of his apartment where he can shower at least a fraction of the hurt and betrayal off. For now, he has the joyous opportunity of getting to see just how fun busting down his own front door can be. </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Chapter 9</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hey everyone! I hope you are all having a great start to your weekend. I now have a full time and part time job so I just wanted to make you all aware that updates might start taking longer and longer. I hope not, because writing is my passion and I love getting things out quick for you all. But just in case, I figured I'd go ahead and warn you all. </p><p>Thank you for your sweet comments and kudos! I hope you all continue to enjoy this fic!!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong> <em>Present Day</em> </strong>
</p><p>Diego disappears and Five falls forward against the tree, wishing more than anything he could have been taken too. He slowly pushes away, turning to face what he knows won’t be a pretty sight. He barely gets a second’s glance at Reginald’s enraged face before his head is snapping back by the heavy force of a punch. He falls back against the tree, dazed. He can barely hear the sound of Diego’s brother shouting through the ringing in his ears. He listlessly glances over to where the voice is originating from. Ben’s down the driveway, screaming as Ten holds him back. A bruising grasp forces Five’s face towards Reginald’s. </p><p>“Do you have any idea what you just did?” Reginald spits, shoving his face in the boy’s. </p><p>Five smiles through the taste of blood in his teeth. Reginald hits him again, his head smacking back. There’s dark spots in his vision as he lulls forward, trembling hands reaching behind to grasp at the tree’s trunk in an attempt of keeping himself upright. </p><p>“I suppose it’s no great revelation that you’re as much a failure as he was.” Hargreeves hisses, grabbing the boy by the hair and forcing his head up. He scans the child’s face as his lips twist into a snarl. “Like father, like son.”</p><p>It would have stung a year ago, in fact it would have stung days ago, to be compared to the father that left him like he was nothing, the man who inadvertently caused all of his lifelong tortures. But, Diego’s a good man. He hadn’t even known about Five and if he did, the boy truly believes he’d have saved him. So being compared to Diego doesn’t hurt, in fact it makes Five feel things that he’d only begun to feel the past few days. It makes him feel like there’s someone else out there, someone like him in so many ways more than blood. He stares into the fiery eyes before him, lips still twisted in a sluggish smile. It’s an act of defiance like no other. Reginald backhands him in response, letting him fall to the ground.</p><p>“You’re going to send me to whenever you sent him.” Reginald demands, watching Five’s pitiful attempt of pushing himself up. </p><p>The boy glares up at the man, face twisted to reveal the hatred he’s kept behind locked doors for so many years. </p><p>“No.”  </p><p>He says it like a breath of fresh air, like he’s finally free of the cage that’s surrounded him his entire life. Reginald chuckles, folding his arms across his chest and watching the boy with a critical eye. </p><p>“He’s had thirteen years to want you,” Reginald starts, lowering into a crouch in front of Five. He reaches out to brush hair from the boy’s face, in a show of feigned kindness. “Do you think he thought about you once while you were daydreaming he’d come to rescue you?”</p><p>Five flinches, eyebrows twitching in unconcealable grief. </p><p>“He-he didn’t know I existed.” He mutters, scanning Reginald’s face. </p><p>There’s a tilt of humor in the man’s eyes and the twitch of his lip.</p><p>“And do you think if he did, he’d have wanted you?” Reginald questions, smile forming on his face. “The selfish, backstabbing child groveling at my feet?”</p><p>Five shoves the man and spatial jumps. He lands only a few feet away, brain scrambled as he stumbles down the driveway. He glances to where Reginald is now standing, fixing his collar and then over to Ten who’s watching him with a quirked brow and last to Ben who’s staring with wide, horrified eyes.  </p><p>“If you think for a moment that he’ll want you now, whenever you sent him, you’d be wrong.” Reginald hisses, humored expression dropping for a familiar furious one. He starts towards the boy. “You’re not getting out of this so easily, Number Five, not until I bleed you dry for all you’re worth.”</p><p>Five reaches for his powers, but they sputter out on the tips of his fingers, blue wisps evaporating into the air as if they’d never existed. He looks between the slowly advancing man and Number Ten who’s still focused on keeping Ben back. It’s obvious they don’t expect him to escape this situation and as he stumbles back a few steps, he’s quite aware he probably won’t be getting out of this. He gulps, dropping his hands to his sides, fingers twitching. </p><p>At the very least, he knows Diego’s safe for now and after everything, he deserves that much. Had Five stuck to his original plan and booked it after Diego removed his tracker, he’d be somewhere far, far away by now. But he’d held out hope that despite Diego's initial anger, the man would come around and want to go with him. And when he’d woken up halfway through Diego carrying him into Ben’s house and when he’d felt a warm hand in his hair, he’d finally believed that if he just told the man everything, maybe he’d want him. Unfortunately, he never got the chance and at this rate he never will. He’s not well versed in his time travel powers and of the hundreds of times he attempted to send himself forward or backwards in time to escape Reginald, it never worked. So, he squares his shoulders, tightens his hands into fists and awaits the arrival of his angry captor. </p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <b> <em>A Year in the Past</em> </b>
</p><p> </p><p>Diego stands in front of his wall of evidence, hair dripping onto his bare shoulders. He has a splint on his nose and his arm is in a makeshift sling. The small crochet heart is in his hand, his thumb mindlessly rubbing against it. He stares at the pages on the wall, one or two are missing from the reversal of time. His jaw clenches as he tries to come to terms with the fact that he fucking time traveled. It had practically smacked him in the face when he’d finally broken into his own home and found moving boxes still sitting around. He must have only recently moved from Al’s gym, given the halfway opened cardboard boxes. It was just like him to leave them sitting around, but immediately decorate the wall with evidence. </p><p>His eyes flicker between the pages. He’s grateful, at the least, that his left eye isn’t burning anymore after he’d flushed the blood away. <em> Small mercies. </em>He reminds himself again. He’s not dead and he really thought he would be so there’s that. And now, he’s a year in the past so he can stop some of his mistakes, like that train-wreck of a relationship from ever beginning. His life may suck but hey, he can give Lisa a chance to find someone a million times better.</p><p>He shuffles on his feet, staring at the picture of the Umbrella Academy living room where he and his siblings are standing, looking like they desperately wished to be elsewhere. </p><p> </p><p>
  <em> “You used to be there too, didn’t you?” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Diego blinks at the boy.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “How’d you know that?” He questions, eyebrows scrunching together. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “I-uh-I read your papers. The one...it was a picture of you and some other people in the Academy, wasn’t it?” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “My siblings.” Diego corrects, picking up his sandwich and taking a bite. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Diego tries to push down the hurt to where he hides the rest of his life’s betrayals, but it refuses to go easy. It bubbles in his chest and it aches more than his arm and more than his bruised body. And it’s not a bruised ego, it’s not that he was played by a kid. It’s the fact that he’d kinda started to care about Five, he’d felt for him, he thought he understood him in ways he couldn’t understand anyone else. They’d both suffered under Reginald Hargreeves, they’d both been trapped in a life in the Umbrella Academy. Maybe that’s why it hurts so much, more than the sting of Ben not believing him. He looked at the kid and he saw himself in so many ways. He saw an abused and manipulated boy. Diego finds himself looking down at the crochet heart and he realizes that’s all there is to this story. Five is an abused and manipulated boy. End of statement. </p><p>He blinks, hand turning to a fist around the heart. Five defied Reginald, something that Diego had done few times as a child until he learned his place. <em> He saved me. </em>Diego thinks as he stares through his hand, deep in his own thoughts. The kid didn’t know about Reginald talking to Ben, he’d told Diego about the tracker and had him remove it, he’d woken Diego up and tried to warn him, he’d told him to run and leave him behind. He gave him a second chance and he’d slipped this into Diego’s pocket. He squeezes the object. Whether Five knew the weight this has or not, he’d wanted to give Diego some sort of sign that he cared, that must be what this is. And maybe this is just Diego and his stupid ignorance. Maybe he hasn’t learned his lesson even after all this time, even after being betrayed hours ago. Maybe he’ll always be so focused on his heart, he bypasses his brain. Maybe this is some sort of trap again, maybe he actually is dead and this is the afterlife, some sort of repeating shitty year. He finds he doesn’t care. There’s a child out there somewhere who needs him. And if Diego’s right, and he’s actually a year in the past rather than just in some weird afterlife cycle, then there’s a Reginald out there who doesn’t see him coming.  </p><p>He settles the crochet heart back into his pocket and with his left hand he starts ripping the evidence from the wall, letting the papers float down to the floor. Once the wall is clear, he turns, searching for his notebook. He finds it on the couch next to a pen. He heavily drops to the cushions, scanning the page it’s opened to. It’s a list of conspiracy theories about his father’s company, all stupid shit like Reginald being an alien and trying to take over the world, him making an army of monkeys - apes, him poisoning the water source with whatever serum crap he’s been producing. Diego rolls his eyes, flipping to a clean page and jotting down Five’s name at the top like he had before. He writes everything he can think of that could be important.</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <em> 13 years old, must have been adopted very young</em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> usually at the academy </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> powers = teleportation, time travel ?? </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> tracker in his neck - shock collar </em>
</p><p> </p><p><span class="u"><em> NOT THE SERUM </em></span> <em>?? how did he get powers</em></p><p> </p><p>
  <em> there are others - number 6: super strength, number 8: mind control(?), number __ : telekinesis </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> some sort of test - why was i involved? why so much work just for a “test”? </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> henry/“secret” lab = setup</em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> why super powers? </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>why a child? </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Diego purses his lips, tapping the pen against his chin. He goes over and over every interaction from the past few days, trying to remember if Five had said anything he could use to figure this shit out. Instead of finding anything sticking out in his memory, he’s just reminded of all the moments he should have realized something was fishy with the kid. It’s frankly a little embarrassing how much he’d missed. He pushes that thought aside, staring at his notes. He has a feeling he’s missing something again, that there’s something right under his nose that somehow went unnoticed. He sets his notebook and pen aside, deciding it may be time for a good ole stakeout. </p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>After Five’s shower, he decides to go straight to sleep, hopeful that more rest will better help prepare him for tomorrow’s training. He turns the light off and heads to his bed. As soon as he’s comfortable in his covers, he reaches under his pillow, searching with his fingers until they make contact with something. He pulls out a small crochet heart and holds it to his chest. He’d found it years ago, hidden under the mattress as if it’d been placed there for safe keeping. </p><p>Five glances over to where he knows the name <em> Diego </em>is carved into the wall. It’s weird, being in the same room as his father clearly once was, and holding something that probably belonged to him. As much as Five hates the man, or at least tells himself that he does, he could never bring himself to ask to change rooms. And when he’d found the heart, his mind had roamed with what his father’s life must have been like here. His life must have been easier, given he’s not like Five. Reginald tells the boy that his father was just untalented and when he’d learned about Five’s powers he’d wanted nothing to do with him. He’s sure that there’s some details missing, but the truth of the matter is that Diego left him here for one reason or another. Ultimately, it doesn’t matter why. Five’s distaste of his father couldn’t stop him from seeking out the only source of comfort he could find in the cold house, be that in the shape of a small heart. He holds it tighter to his chest, pushing thoughts of Diego away, he’s thought about him enough for one day. </p><p>He shuts his eyes and takes a deep breath. He hopes that maybe tonight he won’t dream about his long lost father, especially about sending him through time. That nightmare haunts Five, especially Diego’s betrayed expression. It makes him wake feeling sick.</p><p>His eyes blink open at the sound of laughing down the hall. He grumbles, reaching down to pull his blanket further up his chest. He sets the heart into the crook of his neck and shuts his eyes once more. </p><p>The laughing returns, even louder this time. Five huffs, pushing himself out of bed and lightly walking across the cold floor. He cracks open his door, peeking his head out. The others are heading down the hall, laughing amongst themselves about something. They disappear around the corner and down the stairs. Five silently slinks behind them. </p><p>“God, you think she started making those pumpkin ones again?” Seven moans. </p><p>Five hides against the wall next to the stairs, listening to their conversation.</p><p>“Fuck I hope so, and that latte? To die for.” Nine adds. </p><p>Five waits until he hears the front door close to step out from behind the wall. He stares down the stairs to the closed door for a moment. They’re going out to get donuts, he realizes. His stomach growls at the thought. </p><p>He trails down the staircase, hunger begging him to plead with them to bring something back. Even as he opens the front door and steps out, he knows they won’t. Besides, they’re already too far away to have even heard the door open.  </p><p>Five stands at the edge of the top of the stairs. It’s as far as he can go without setting the tracker off. He watches as the others head down the street, laughing and talking as if they’re normal and not Hargreeves’ science experiments.</p><p>Five sighs, wrapping his arms around himself to stave off the chill in the air. The wind tugs at his hair and he shuts his eyes, just breathing in the crispness. He wishes he was somewhere else, somewhere with a family and hot chocolate and movies. The others talk about that kind of stuff a lot around this time of year - all the movies they’d watched as children. Five has always wondered how they could want to give up something like that for something as trivial as super powers. What’s teleportation for a boy trapped in a box parading itself as a home? What’s time travel for someone who can’t use it to escape the present? </p><p>He’s never understood why they stay, why they haven’t run off. They’re all old enough and none of them have trackers like he does, so why do they stay? Perhaps they’d seen what happened to Five after his escape attempt, perhaps the thought of a tracker being implanted into their necks was enough for them to behave. Or perhaps they actually liked this. After all, they aren’t like Five. They’d be given their powers for free and they’ve come to love them, but Five’s have come at a cost that he’ll never be able to pay. They've cost him a normal family, a normal house, a normal life. He’d give up teleportation and time travel in a blink for something as normal as love. He blinks his eyes open, immediately catching movement across the street. He squints, barely making out a figure watching him. He stares back just as intently as he imagines the person to be staring at him. He’s not scared, just curious. </p><p>“Hey!” He shouts, making the figure jolt. </p><p>He watches as they slowly come out of the dark of the shadows and head towards him. The person looks both ways before quickly crossing the street. Under the light of the moon, their face is revealed to him. </p><p>“Five.” The man whispers, stepping up near the bottom of the stairs.</p><p>The boy stills, heart hammering in his chest. It’s <em> Diego. </em>The man repeats his name, face cautious and guarded. Five turns and runs back inside, slamming the door shut. He locks it, breathing heavily as he halfway falls against the door. He stands on his tip-toes to glance out the peephole. Diego is still standing there, his eyes scanning the building. Contrary to the picture Five had been shown a week ago, the man standing outside the door looks rather rough. His hair is long, there’s cuts on his face, a splint on his nose, a sling around his arm. He looks like he’d been in a serious fight. Five can’t stop staring at the man’s face and the nervous brown eyes darting around and taking in the exterior of the Umbrella Academy. Five wonders how long it’s been since Diego’s seen the place up so close.  </p><p>Diego steps back, away from the door. Despite himself, Five’s fingers find themselves on the lock. He lets out a sharp breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. His throat feels dry as he slowly backs away from the door. He should go to Hargreeves, he should warn him that Diego’s here. But he doesn’t. He heads upstairs instead, feeling like he should hide from whatever that was. He mechanically walks as his brain plays on repeat the image of Diego standing at the bottom of the stairs, watching him with that- that <em> look. </em>And the way he'd said his name. Like he knew him. </p><p>There’s no way Diego would know what he looked like now, he’d left him when he was so young. Unless he’d been keeping tabs on him all this time. Five feels a flush of anger as he settles on the edge of his bed. <em> How dare he come around here? How dare he look at me like that? </em></p><p>Five pushes himself up from the bed, suddenly resolute. He should tell Reginald. If Diego's slinking around the house and seemingly recognizes him, it's likely that the <em>assessment </em>and Five's escape plan is all but about to be thrown out the window. Telling Hargreeves probably won't make much a difference, in fact maybe the man will be more lenient with him for his truthfulness. Or better yet, perhaps Five should go downstairs and shout at Diego himself. That'd probably make him feel better. He starts towards his bedroom door. He reaches out for the handle just as he hears the sound of his window opening. </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. Chapter 10</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hi friends, hope you're all doing well! Thank you for your patience and kindness. &lt;3</p><p>Some slight warnings will be found in the end tag.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Climbing the fire escape with a broken arm proves to be more difficult for Diego than he originally expected. He huffs as he makes it to the top. Bending down, he peers into the window of his childhood bedroom. He blinks at the sight of Five standing inside. He’d thought he’d have to go searching for the kid and risk being caught. <em> Small mercies. </em>He quickly pushes the window open and climbs in, Five’s name on the tip of his tongue. It dissolves at the look on the kid’s face as he slowly turns away from the bedroom door. </p><p>“What the hell are <em> you </em> doing here?” Five hisses, voice low as he cautiously steps back closer towards the door. </p><p>Diego reels. Sure, he knows now that the whole thing with Five was fake, but Jesus it’d been planned a whole year in advance? </p><p>“Guess I shouldn’t be surprised you recognize me.” Diego mutters, eyes darting around the room taking in its appearance. </p><p>Not much is altered from when he’d lived in it, the only difference is some books now stacked on the desk. Even his name is still scratched in the wall from the first kitchen knife he’d stolen when no one was looking. His gaze finally lands back on Five who’s staring at him with scrunched brows and an unreadable expression. </p><p>“So, it’s true? You’ve been keeping tabs on me this whole time?” Five questions, voice sharp but wobbly as his hand finds the door knob behind himself. “What do you want? Did someone offer you money in exchange for me?” </p><p>Diego blinks, brain coming to a sudden halt. His mouth opens and closes like a fish. “<em> What?” </em></p><p>“Hargreeves told me you don’t have powers so good luck getting me to come with you.” </p><p>Diego glances between the door handle in which Five’s hand is tightly grasping and the boy’s unsteady expression. He’s staring past Diego at the open window, as if afraid to look directly at him. </p><p>“I’m sorry-<em> what?” </em>Diego repeats, shaking his head as if that’ll make him better understand what the hell is happening here. </p><p>Five’s face is cloudy as he turns his attention to the man, scanning him with stormy green eyes. “That’s why you’re here, isn’t it?”</p><p>“I’m here to help you, Five.” Diego states, voice steady despite his confusion.</p><p>Five huffs out a forced laugh. “I think you’re a little too late for that.” </p><p>Diego shuffles on his feet, feeling the sudden rush of guilt. He wishes he’d known about Five’s situation earlier. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know.”</p><p>Five looks affronted by his response. </p><p>“That’s interesting because clearly you were outside stalking the house.” The boy says, voice sharp. “Clearly you knew my name and what I look like.”</p><p>Diego backtracks, trying to think of an easy way to explain that he’d been sent to the past. “I know this might be confusing to you, it’s confusing to me too-” </p><p>“No, what’s confusing to me is why my <em> father </em> decided to leave me here for twelve years in the first fucking place.” Five snarls, looking seconds away from lunging at Diego.</p><p>“I-I’m sorry about your father.” Diego sputters out quickly, although he can’t help but feel confused at the diversion of topic. </p><p>Five’s face twists as if he’d eaten something sour or had been smacked. </p><p>“Look, it’s awful you’ve been stuck here,” Diego starts, attempting to somehow wrangle this conversation into something more civil. “Reginald adopted me too, I know what that’s like. That’s why I’m here, you-you gave me a second chance and I want to make sure you get one too.”</p><p>He reaches into his pocket, pulling the heart from it. Five stills, eyes flickering between the object in Diego’s hand and the replica lying on his pillow. </p><p>“How-”</p><p>“I think you sent me a year into the past.” Diego explains, casting his gaze up from his hand to Five’s surprised face.</p><p>“What?” Five questions, hand dropping from the door handle. “<em> Holy shit </em>. So, you-?”</p><p>“Know about the little plan to use me for some sick game and then kill me off?” Diego offers, unable to fully keep the bitterness from entangling into his tone. “Yeah, I know about that.”</p><p>Five’s eyes widen as he flinches, grabbing at the door handle again as if he expects a sudden attack. Diego holds his hand in the air in a placating motion.</p><p>“Like I said, I'm here to help you. I don’t blame you.” He repeats, voice as far from accusatory as he can manage. </p><p>Five looks startled for a moment, as if he’d expected anything but Diego’s soft words. “Did I-?”</p><p>“Try to kill me?” Diego suggests. At Five’s searching gaze, he continues with a shake of his head. “No. You sent me back here instead.”</p><p>Five curses, hands reaching up to yank at his hair as he steps away from the door.</p><p>“And the uh-the tracker?” He asks, voice coming out almost breathless. “Did you know about that?” </p><p>“Yeah,” Diego answers softly, still feeling regret for the way he had reacted to that. “I removed it.” </p><p>Five looks up at that, eyes wide. “And I didn’t leave you?” </p><p>“Didn’t know that was part of the plan,” Diego mumbles, shoving the crochet heart back into his pocket. “But no. You tried to warn me but it was too late.”</p><p>“What the hell? Why would I do that?” Five asks himself, starting to pace the floor.</p><p>Diego awkwardly rubs his hand against the fabric of the sling on his opposite arm. “I don’t know. Clearly you’re not my biggest fan right now.”</p><p>Five stops in place. </p><p>“Are you surprised by that?” He questions, voice marked with irritation and disbelief. </p><p>“I mean...yeah?” Diego answers carefully, feeling in the midst of a confrontation he hadn’t prepared himself for. “How long have you known about me?”</p><p>Five looks away from the man, crossing his arms over his chest. “Since I was young. Hargreeves likes to use it against me. You’re his biggest disappointment after all. I’m definitely a close second.”</p><p>Diego’s not surprised to hear that his father thinks he’s a disappointment, he’s heard it a myriad of times before. But Reginald telling Five about him when he was young and then using him against the kid makes no sense and he voices just that. “I don’t understand. Why would he use me against you?”</p><p>“Are you playing dumb or are you naturally this stupid?” Five questions, voice barbed like wire. </p><p>Diego’s taken aback, blinking in a quick succession. “...I feel like we’re having two very different conversations right now.”</p><p>Five’s eyebrow twitches as his face flickers through a million different emotions. It settles on something vulnerable as his eyes search Diego’s. </p><p>“Do you-do you not know who I am?” He asks, voice small in a way that highlights just how young he really is.</p><p>Their conversation is interrupted by the sound of the door knob turning. Five’s eyes widen and he teleports back to the door, slamming his shoulder against it. </p><p>“I’m changing!” He shouts, mouthing ‘go’ to Diego. </p><p>The man is stuck in place for a moment, still trying to comprehend what Five meant by his question. Five mouths for him to go once more and Diego listens, quickly turning and leaving through the window. He shuts it gently, keeping it open a few inches at the bottom so it doesn’t make a sound and hides to the side against the outside wall. He’s not leaving until he can convince Five to come with him. He crouches next to the window, listening to the sound of the bedroom door opening. </p><p>“Who the hell are you talking to?” A female voice questions. </p><p>Diego gulps, throat suddenly dry. </p><p>“No one.” Five answers without hesitation. </p><p>Diego can hear the other person hum as they walk around the room.</p><p>“Why’s your window open? Not planning to run again, are you?”</p><p>“No!” Five quickly dismisses the idea, voice defensive. “No, it was just hot in here.”</p><p>“Good. I’d hate for what happened last time to happen again.” The woman says, although her tone suggests otherwise. </p><p>It’s quiet for a moment before Five mutters, “You weren’t even here when it happened.” </p><p>Diego has to strain to hear the kid’s low voice. </p><p>“No, but I know enough.” The woman dismisses, suddenly sounding close to the window. “Six talks about the amount of blood-”</p><p>Diego’s eyes widen and he cringes as he silently shuffles further from the window. <em> Blood? </em> He thinks as he holds his breath. <em> What the hell happened to the kid? </em></p><p>“I get it.” Five cuts her off, voice rough and irritated. “What do you want?”</p><p>“Hargreeves wants you.” The woman answers easily.</p><p>The sound of her walking away from the window can’t even calm Diego’s rapidly beating heart. The thought of Reginald asking for the kid makes him just as nervous as the thought of being caught by whoever’s in the room.</p><p>“What? Why?” Five asks, voice tinged with an almost imperceptible anxiousness.</p><p>Diego aches at the sound, wanting nothing more than to burst into the room and grab Five and take him far away. </p><p>“Don’t know, don’t care.” The woman answers.</p><p>At the sound of two pairs of feet leaving the room and the door shutting behind them, Diego slowly moves closer to the window. He hesitantly glances into the room. Both Five and the woman are gone. He opens the window fully once more, sliding back into the house. He hurries over to the door, flicking the lock. </p><p>Diego had always been surprised that his father had offered them as much privacy as their own rooms, especially ones with doors that can lock. But there were enough threats that none of the siblings dared to try to hide behind locked doors. Clearly, Five wasn’t as scared of the threats as they’d been, if he’d supposedly tried running away. Diego remembers thinking about running away. But the sort of punishments he received just for talking back clued him into what would happen if he were caught trying to escape. His self-preservation skills kept him from risking such a thing. That must be why the kid has the tracker. Diego heads over to the desk, feeling sick. He can’t stop thinking about what the woman said. </p><p>
  <em> “Six talks about the amount of blood-” </em>
</p><p>He has to get Five out of here. Reginald’s a bastard, always has been and always will be. No child deserves to have to be stuck in this place with that psychotic asshole. Speaking of which, Diego’s anxiety is still skyrocketed at the thought of what the man wants with Five. What if he knows that Diego’s in the house right now? What if he knows that Five knows? What if this is another setup? What if this is all a dream? </p><p>Diego cuts his own quickly derailing thoughts off, forcing them to the back of his mind. He’s not leaving yet. If Reginald knows he’s here, then he’ll have to come to him and the knife in Diego’s waistband is just waiting for some action. Of course, that won’t matter if the other people living in the house show up with their debilitating super powers. Diego throws that thought away with the rest of his worries, lowering himself into the desk chair. He reaches out to the books on the middle of the desk, pulling them closer. He opens the top one that’s settled on two others. The first page reads, “Introductory Quantum Physics and Relativity.” He whistles lowly. Five’s clearly even smarter than he's given him credit for which makes him feel slightly better about how many signs he'd missed. He flicks through the pages, not particularly inclined to do any actual reading. His eyes catch on writing in the middle of the book. He stops on the page, rubbing his hand across it. There’s scribbles of tiny equations filling it. A few are crossed out, some circled and crossed out, some erased so harshly there’s a small dent in its place. Diego moves to the next page, finding just as many notes on it as the last. He flicks through about ten more sheets of filled pages until he lands on one without equations, but instead sharp words. </p><p> </p><p>
  <b> <em>“He’s never coming.”</em> </b>
</p><p>
  <b> <em>“Fuck time travel.”</em> </b>
</p><p>
  <b> <em>“Fuck everything.” </em> </b>
</p><p>
  <b> <em>“Useless.”</em> </b>
</p><p>
  <b> <em>“My fault.”</em> </b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b> <em>“I wish I was dead.”</em> </b>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><hr/><p> </p><p>Five silently follows Reginald as he leads him down to the basement. He can’t stop thinking about Diego, their conversation repeating in his head. His biological father was in this house, he’d had a conversation with him. His biological father who clearly didn’t know he existed before they’d supposedly met a year from now.</p><p>
  <em> “I’m sorry about your father.” </em>
</p><p>Jesus. Five wants to assume that the man’s just a complete and total idiot. There’s no way he didn’t know, right? Because if he didn’t know, then that means… Five blinks at Reginald’s back. That means a lot of earth shattering things that Five <em> really </em>can’t think about right now. </p><p>Diego’s probably just messing with him, that must be it. <em> Shit. </em> He suddenly thinks. <em> What if this is part of the test? </em></p><p>His mind runs a million miles a second through probabilities and possibilities. He’s not sure what to think, his thoughts are all tangled together, weaving so much uncertainty. Fuck Diego for arriving today and thoroughly trampling on Five’s tentative plans. Fuck him for making him feel so nervous and unsure. Fuck him for daring to either play with Five’s emotions or to actually have not known of his existence. He doesn't know what would hurt more - him being right all these years or him being wrong.</p><p>Five has to stop himself from almost running straight into Reginald who’s suddenly stopped walking. Five takes a moment to orient himself, realizing he’s in one of the testing rooms and one of Hargreeves trusted scientists is here. </p><p>“Henry.” Reginald greets, motioning for Five to sit in the seat the scientist is standing next to.</p><p>“Sir.” The man smiles, reaching over to his table of tools to grab gloves. </p><p>“I-uh-I thought we were done with the extractions for a while.” Five mutters, glancing between the two men as he takes a seat. </p><p>Henry shakes his head, chuckling lightly as if Five had said something particularly stupid and Reginald ignores him.</p><p>“Number Ten has been making steady progress, she becomes stronger every day.” Hargreeves remarks, sounding impressed, something Five himself has never gotten from the man. </p><p>“As have we. We’ve repeated the strain we used on Number Ten, isolating more variables. We think we’re finally getting close to figuring out what makes this little guy so special.” Henry says, words ending in a fake sickly sweet tone that makes Five feel nauseous. </p><p>The scientist motions to Five’s shirt and the boy reaches down, lifting the fabric and exposing his battlefield of bruises. </p><p>“Special is a word for him.” Reginald mocks, reaching up to fix his monocle. “I’d call it luck.”</p><p>As the needle is plunged into his skin, Five has a hard time sharing the sentiment. His fingers tangle in his pants and his eyes watch as the plunger is pulled up, blood filling the syringe.</p><p>“You know, Number Five,” Henry starts, withdrawing the needle. “We’ll be just as happy as you’ll be when we finally don’t have to do this anymore.”</p><p>Five has a hard time believing that, but catching Reginald’s harsh gaze, he stays silent. He wonders what will happen to him when they don’t need him anymore. Considering Hargreeves’ ideas for getting rid of other nuisances, like Diego, he can imagine something rather grim will befall him. He’ll never just be let go, that much he does know. He hopes he can figure out a new escape plan, one that doesn't involve Diego, before he runs out of usefulness.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Diego stares at the page for what feels like forever, heart in his throat and eyes turning blurry. At the sound of a whoosh, he jolts, twisting to look at Five who’s suddenly reappeared in the room. </p><p>“You’re still here.” Five mumbles, a twinge of surprise in his exhausted voice.</p><p>Diego quickly rubs at his eyes before taking in the kid’s appearance, his slouched shoulders and his arm holding his stomach. </p><p>“Are-” Diego clears his itching throat. “Are you okay?”</p><p>“Is that-?” Five asks in place of an answer, disappearing from the center of the room and reappearing next to Diego. </p><p>He falters on his feet for a second, appearing winded. Diego reaches out but the kid smacks his arm away. “What the fuck are you doing with that?”</p><p>He snatches the book from the desk, snapping it shut. </p><p>“Oh, shit, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to-”</p><p>“You don’t <em> mean </em> to do a lot of things do you?” Five questions, eyes aflame with unbridled resentment. “Probably didn’t <em> mean </em> to have me either, did you?”</p><p>Diego quirks his brow at that. “What?”</p><p>Five growls out a “God!” throwing his book. It ricochets off the wall, hitting the floor loudly, inciting a flinch from Diego. He glances at the door, half-expecting Reginald to barge in. </p><p>“You’re my fucking dad, Diego. Alright? You’re my biological father.” Five says, voice thick with emotion and face flushed with anger. “Happy?”</p><p>“No…” Diego whispers, voice cracking. “That’s-that’s not…”</p><p>Five puts his finger on his chin, the action more aggressive and mocking rather than an actual sign of deep thought. “I’m twelve now, so subtract that and what, 9 to 10 months? I think you can probably figure out the rest. Or do you need a paternity test?”</p><p>Diego is floored. His hands grab at the collar of his shirt, pulling it forward away from his neck. He feels like he’s suffocating, like he’s drowning in that tank of water again. Sweat rolls down his back, sudden warmth crawling through his organs. His mouth twitches, not opening further than the smallest of ‘o’s. He doesn’t want to speak, can’t remember how. His head is spinning as it provides him with memories he’d long since forgotten. </p><p>
  <em> He’d been sitting at the computer in the library. He was scrolling through any old articles he could find on his father. He’d been staring at the picture of Reginald under an article about some award he won.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “Fuck Reginald Hargreeves, right?”  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Diego had blinked out of his own thoughts, turning to glance at the person who’d spoken. He'd found himself staring at a woman, entranced by her words and her forest green eyes. She was beautiful but that didn't really matter. Frankly, he’d have gladly gotten into bed with just about anyone who voiced shared hatred of his father. And he had gone to bed with her. They’d left together from the library, something he’d have been embarrassed to share if he’d had friends to share it with.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> They’d ended up in a casual relationship after that. Diego had never thought himself the kind of person who went casual but he craved intimacy so deeply he’d take a relationship in any capacity he could get. She’d come over, they’d have sex, and then she’d leave. She’d offered multiple times to go without a condom, she’d thought it unnecessary. Diego had never been interested, the idea of potentially bringing a child into this world absolutely dissuading him from risking something like that. But after a few weeks, she’d worn him down with her pretty promises and her begging. She’d thoroughly convinced him that it was absolutely impossible for her to get pregnant. And stupidly, he gave in. He’d only recently left the Academy, he’d had no one and he trusted her.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> They were together for around a month longer and then one day she disappeared. Her phone number was disconnected. He’d tried finding her at the library, but she’d never shown her face there again.  </em>
</p><p>Diego blinks back to the present, finding he had been staring at the wall past Five. The kid is staring back at him, looking desperate for some sort of response. </p><p>“I…” Diego starts, trying to come up with something to say. </p><p>The words twist his tongue and his mouth clicks shut. Five turns his attention down to the ground.</p><p>“You can’t be here.” The boy says softly, turning to face away from Diego. “If Hargreeves finds out, we’re both in trouble, okay? Probably me more than you. I-I don’t need your help and I...I don’t want it so please just go.”</p><p>Diego sits quietly for a moment, the sound of his own heartbeat deafening. </p><p>“Five,” He whispers, voice unsteady. “I-I don't...I...I mean, you’re my kid?” </p><p>He reaches a hand up to rub across his tired face. Five’s expression when he’d said he never had kids flickers through his mind. And then his own words after? <em> “ </em> <em> I never had them and I never plan to have them.” </em></p><p>Five saying his own parents didn’t want him. His response to Diego telling him he related to him, to being left here in this shitty house. His laugh when Diego unknowingly described himself. </p><p>The multiple times he’d accidentally said the wrong thing for reasons he couldn’t comprehend. The hope in Five’s eyes when he told him he wouldn’t leave him and then the disappointment when he’d said he’d stay with him until he was in safe hands. </p><p>He’d been freed, the tracker had been removed. He’d apparently planned on leaving, he’d tried escaping from Reginald once before. But, he stayed with Diego. Despite hurtful words, despite Diego’s insistence that he’d never have kids, despite the now cruel <em> “Jesus, this is why I can’t do kids” </em>, Five didn’t leave him. Three days, that’s all it took for the kid to become attached to someone who’d seemingly left him to rot in this place. He defied Reginald for a man who he thought never wanted him. He must have hoped he’d be able to convince Diego to stay, convince him to want him. </p><p>“Oh, fuck,” Diego mutters, feeling sick to his stomach. “I’m an asshole.”</p><p>He pushes himself up from the chair and steps towards Five. He’s not sure if he should reach out, but he does anyway. The boy takes a step back, eyes hard and expression suddenly devoid of emotion that had been there moments before. </p><p>“Look, it doesn’t matter whatever happened with me and you in the future,” Five says matter-of-factly. “I’m not gonna hold you to it. I want you to go.”</p><p>Diego drops his arm back down to his side, eyebrows scrunching in confusion. “Five-”</p><p>“Fucking go.” The kid growls, folding his arms across his chest, effectively shutting Diego out. “If you don’t, I swear to God I’ll tell Hargreeves you’re here.”</p><p>Diego tries to find a crack in Five’s expression or something soft in his sharp gaze. He doesn’t. He nods, gulping. </p><p>“I’ll-I’ll go, but I’m coming back for you.” He says, tongue thick in his mouth and eyes burning. “I promise.”</p><p>“Sure.” Five half-laughs, the sound bitter as he dismisses Diego with a wave of his hand.</p><p>Diego stares at him a moment longer, taking in his features. He nods to himself once more. He can’t discount Five’s threat. As much as he desperately wants to get him out of this place, Five’s clearly upset and he can’t risk the kid turning on him or refusing to leave. He’ll be back tomorrow, hopefully with ideas of how to get Five to trust him once again. He should probably also figure out what to do once he gets the kid out of this place, like where the hell the best off the map place to raise a child is. He’s a dad now and as much as he cared for and wanted to help Five before, this monumental fact still changes <em> everything </em>.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Warning for passing mention of something that can be perceived as suicidal ideation. Found between "...he lands on one without equations, but instead sharp words" and the line break.</p><p>Warning for a non-con situation in which a woman lies to Diego to get him to have unprotected sex.  Found between "She'd come over, they'd have sex, and then she'd leave." and "He'd only recently left the Academy, he'd had no one and he trusted her."</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>11. Chapter 11</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I’m sorry this chapter took so long everyone, I don’t know why this one really kicked my butt. Saying that makes me think of Flats from Spongebob (i hope someone gets that reference). Anyway, this chapter was quite the toughie for some reason so I hope it came out okay. Fingers crossed next chapter will be out faster than this one.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Diego lays in his bed, staring up at the ceiling. He watches the creaky fan blades as they rotate like a carousel. The burn of bile still sits at the back of his throat. As soon as he’d returned to his apartment from his failed expedition, he’d barely made it to the toilet. The weight of everything came crashing down and he spent over an hour uncomfortably sitting on the tiled floor. After that, he’d walked to his bed in a daze, gracelessly flopping down onto the mattress. </p><p>Now, he’s laying and staring at the ceiling, hoping it will give him the answers he aches for. He can’t stop thinking and thinking and thinking. <em> Five. His kid. </em> His kid who had been stuck with Reginald for twelve years. His kid who thought he had purposefully left him. His kid who’s still there, writing in his books that he wishes he was <em> dead.  </em></p><p>He blinks, tears slipping down the sides of his face. Hot anger courses through his veins, leaving him feeling warm despite the wind of the fan. That bastard kept Five from him all these years, that bastard is the reason for all the shit that’s ever happened to him and his kid. Jaw clenched, he thinks he wants to fucking <em> kill </em> his father. And if he gets in the way of saving Five, he won’t hesitate to do just that. </p><p>And with that last thought, that last picture in his head, he falls asleep.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <em> Diego is running through a forest of trees. His heart is hammering in his chest and his breath is laborious as he runs as fast as his legs will take him. He whips his head to the side, finding Five running next to him with a horrified expression.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> He feels it suddenly, the tendrils of power squeezing him as he’s stopped in place and lifted through the air. He tries to reach for Five who’s now in the same compromising position as him, a few feet above the ground.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> It’s the woman from before and his father, they’re both laughing as they stand before them. As if this was all futile, and a sharp feeling in Diego’s chest tells him it was just that.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “Shall we try this again, gentlemen? No time traveling escapades this time.” Reginald says with a twisted grin. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> He reaches into his suit, retrieving a revolver. Cold fear settles as Diego finds his eyes back on Five. The boy’s eyes are focused and his hands are fisted. There’s wisps of blue. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “You’ve outlasted your worth, Number Five.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Diego has a moment to register the words, the raise of the gun, before a shot rings out, echoing through the trees.  </em>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><hr/><p> </p><p>Five wakes with a scream on the tip of his tongue. He pants, sitting up with a hand clenched in his shirt where he’d expected a bullet to have pierced. His eyes are wide as they dart around, mouth open, desperately sucking in air. His heart thuds loudly as his chest expands and contracts heavily with each panted breath. </p><p>He flinches at the sound of a bell ringing in the hallway. </p><p>“Fuck.” He wheezes out, lowering his head to his hands. </p><p>His fingers tremble as he rides out the shocked state his dream left him in. He had gotten used to nightmares involving his biological father, but up until this point, they’d mostly been the same. This one was different, it left him breathless in a new way. Diego’s horrified face is etched into his brain as is the feeling that he would most certainly die. </p><p>He takes one more moment to steady his breathing before pushing himself out of bed. He quickly pulls his sheet and comforter up, making the bed and gently tucking the crochet heart under his pillow into its hiding place. It’s not that Reginald makes it a habit of going through his room, but the others can be so cruel. Any weakness of his that can be exposed and used will be exposed and used. And Diego, along with anything related to him, might just be the biggest weakness, the only weakness, he’s ever had. </p><p>He pushes that thought from his head almost as soon as it arrives. Diego can be dangerous like that. One rogue thought can turn into a tsunami of speculations and feelings and wishes that will never come true. Standing in front of his closet, he stares at the cloned outfits before him, half training outfits, half Academy suit ensembles. He lets out a heavy sigh, pulling one of the training outfits from its hanger.</p><p>At the sound of a second bell ringing, he doesn’t waste another moment of introspection,  quickly changing and swiping a hand through his hair. He hurries to the bathroom, running through his daily ministrations at lightning speed. He makes it downstairs with seconds to spare, Reginald watching him with an annoyed quirk of his brow.</p><p>“Number Five.” He warns, although with little effort.</p><p>Five silently sits, glancing around the table at the others. They watch him with raised brows before turning back to their breakfast. He glares down at his own. Stupid fucking oatmeal again. He’s the only one forced to eat oatmeal day after day, Hargreeves claiming it’ll help him build muscle. That’s one of Five’s biggest flaws in Reginald’s eyes, although that’s not saying much considering the myriad of them. His small stature and weaker body type has always been cause for comment. Five thinks it’s because if he were bigger and stronger, he could be used as a blood bag without running as high a risk of so easily passing out as he often finds himself doing. He doesn’t trick himself into thinking he’s more useful than that. </p><p>“Stop playing with your food, Number Five.” Hargreeves says absentmindedly, face in his journal as he sits at the end of the table. </p><p>Five only then realizes he’d been spooning at the sludge, lips twisted in disgust. The others snicker into their food. He wishes he could have Ten’s power and use telekinesis to toss their breakfast into their annoying faces. He silently eats instead, making himself even smaller. </p><p>He wonders what a real family breakfast would be like. Would he be allowed to talk? Would he be allowed to eat something other than grainy oatmeal? A picture of him sitting at a table with Diego pops into his head without permission. He can’t help but wonder what life could have been like. As he eats, he looks over at Reginald. Did Diego really never know about him? Has Reginald really kept him a secret all this time? </p><p>Five wants to slam his spoon down and unflinchingly demand that he has a question. He wants to spatial jump to the end of the table and just stand before Hargreeves until the man tells him if it’s true, if Diego really never knew, if he’d been lied to all these years, if someone could have saved him from this if only they had known. He silently focuses his attention back on his bowl instead. He knows what happens when he disobeys and he’s not particularly willing to deal with something like that right now. </p><p>Reginald finally lowers his book, watching them for a moment. “Five, Six. Seven, Nine. Eight, Ten.” </p><p>Five lets out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. Thank God he’s not being put with Ten for training again, his back is still sore from yesterday. </p><p>They all leave the table, heading to the practice room. Five’s mind is heavy, his tongue thick with questions resting at its edge. He watches the back of Hargreeves as he walks, wishing he had the kind of fearlessness to just let the words fall. </p><p>As he steps into the room, he follows Six over to one of the corners. He walks absentmindedly, stopping a few feet from the woman. He crouches into his fighting stance. He’s never understood why he needs a fighting stance in the first place, it’s not like he won’t spatial jump the first chance he can get to either defend himself or to surprise his opponent. He’s small; Without the element of surprise, he’s too easily overpowered. He lowers into the position nonetheless, because he knows that’s what Hargreeves wants and he can feel his eyes burning the back of his head. </p><p>“You thinking ‘bout daddy?”</p><p>Five flinches up from his stance, face dropping. “What?”</p><p>“Diego, right?” Six specifies, although the smirk on her face tells him she already knows the answer to her own question.</p><p>“Why the hell would I be thinking about him?” Five questions, replacing his expression with blankness. </p><p>He returns to his earlier position, trying his damndest to not let Six’s words affect him. He knows that’s exactly what she wants and he could at least make her work a little harder than that. She shrugs, smiling at him. He blinks and suddenly she’s running towards him. He hesitates, bouncing on his feet, forcing himself to wait until she’s almost to him and then spatial jumping to the spot right behind her. Except she’d expected that, swinging her arm behind herself. Five flies back with the power of her swing, yelping as he hits the matted floor. Damn his back still fucking hurts like hell. He hops up to his feet without a moment’s hesitance, eyes finding Reginald staring at him, unenthused. </p><p>“You’ve been very distracted.” Six remarks, slowly walking towards him as he shuffles back and forth on his feet. </p><p>Five ignores her comment, waiting for her. She stops a few feet ahead of him and beckons him with her hand. “Go ahead, do a jump, Five. You’ve become predictable at this point.”</p><p>And so he does, appearing before her. She swings out with a chuckle, but he timed it perfectly, spatial jumping as soon as she’d swung, landing behind her and sweeping the legs out from under her. </p><p>“As have you.” He says with a self satisfied smile. </p><p>He glances over to Hargreeves, who’s still watching without a single twitch of emotion. He casts his vision back to Six, but he’s too late. She’s slamming him down to the ground before he’s had a moment’s breath. The air is knocked from his lungs and he gasps, eyes wide as he stares up at his opponent. His back twinges, bruises aching against the ground.</p><p>“You’re a weak little boy.” She snarls, easily holding him down with one hand. </p><p>He grunts, attempting to push up from the floor. “You win this round. Let me up.”</p><p>She continues to hold him down with one hand, raising her other. His eyes widen and flicker over to Reginald who’s now standing to the side, watching with interest. He blinks back to Six as her hand comes down. He spatial jumps before it makes contact, popping directly behind her and kicking her in the back of the knee. It doesn’t work as he’d planned, her turning and swiftly grabbing his foot. She twists her hold and he hits the ground hard again. He ignores the pain, spatial jumping once more, further away from her, now on the defensive. He breathes heavily, hand reaching up to wipe the sweat from his brow. </p><p>Six stands steadily, not a hint of exhaustion or weakness in her stature. “Well, come on then, show-off.” </p><p>Five takes a moment to just breath. Calculations run through his mind, working out some sort of equation, something that won’t be as predictable as every move he currently has on standby. </p><p>“Number Six.” Reginald says easily, reaching up to touch his monocle. </p><p>Both Five and his opponent turn their attention to the man who raises a brow at the eldest and walks away. Five glances back at Six, eyebrows drawn in confusion. Six starts towards him, pace slow and purposeful. He waits until she’s close and then once more spatial jumps feet away. He thinks if he can frustrate her enough by keeping his distance, he can trip up her expectations and claim that element of surprise again. She doesn’t appear frustrated though, simply starting towards him once more. He tilts his head as he watches her. </p><p>He follows a pattern, waiting and jumping, waiting and jumping. Until, suddenly, he realizes a moment too late, he’s used up all of his energy. Her hit finally lands and he realizes he’s even more predictable than he first thought. She purposefully made him use up his energy and he did it all on his own like a fool. </p><p>He takes a step back, but she’s on him before he can get far enough away, grabbing him by the shirt and ripping him from his spot. He’s tossed towards the wall, arms catching himself against the pads. She’s twisting him around before he can recover, punching him in the face. He can taste blood in his teeth, can feel it dripping down from his nose. She could kill him like this, if she used just a fraction more of her power.</p><p>“You win.” He chokes, holding his hands out in front of him. </p><p>She hits him again and he falls to the side, knees hitting the ground. He looks up at her, one eye now puffy and squinted. </p><p>“What-what are you doing?” He croaks. </p><p>She reaches down, lifting him by the collar of his shirt. </p><p>“You win. You win.” He repeats, words coming out like a beg as his hands grab at her wrist. </p><p>“He told me to teach you a lesson.” She says as if it’s obvious. </p><p>His eyes are wide as they search the room. The others are still engaged in their own training, paying them no mind. And Hargreeves is nowhere to be seen.</p><p>He tries to get her fingers to release his shirt, sweaty hands pulling at her grasp. “Please, Six. He’s not here. You win.” </p><p>She backhands him once and then again. He blacks out somewhere between them, falling limp. <em> That </em>day from four years ago flashes through his mind.</p><p>
  <em> There used to be four others. They’d been kids too. They lived in the Academy before Five had even arrived as an infant. He can barely remember them, but he remembers the way Hargreeves had talked about them. They’d been useless in his eyes, powerless. They’d been adopted practically from the womb and were given the serum like a baby bottle. Reginald had thought perhaps that’s where he’d failed with the inaugural class of the Umbrella Academy, that he had waited until they were too old to give them the purported altering drug. So, he started the four off young, but none of them showed a single symptom of power, not within the few years they lived at the Academy. And then Five came along, Five who with a single small sneeze disappeared from his cradle and reappeared on the floor a few feet away. He was four when the other kids all disappeared one day. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> The next years were torturous and incredibly lonely. The attention he received from Reginald was far from the kind a child would hope and beg for. He’d gotten used to needles before he’d even learned to tie his own shoes. The prick of a needle became commonplace as did the exhaustion of Reginald’s constant pushing of his powers. Each day became an ever growing battle with no end in sight. His powers have limits, something Hargreeves has never accepted, forcing him far past his potential, leaving him sick and aching.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> He was eight when Six first arrived. She was a lot older than him and talked about things he'd never thought of before. That's when he started to wonder about certain facets of his life, like why Reginald wouldn’t allow him to call him “Dad” or why he didn’t have a mom. Did he have no family at all? And then, one day, he’d pushed his desk to the side in an attempt of reaching a lost pencil. He’d uncovered a carved “Diego" and brushed his fingers against the etched wall. He’d pondered on it for only moments before heading downstairs, popping his head into Reginald’s office. He’d asked as politely and as gingerly as he could, what it meant. Without so much as a twitch, without a single glance, Hargreeves muttered that it was his disappointing biological father. He offered no further information, so Five trotted back upstairs, taking this new invaluable detail along with him and tossing it around in his head the whole night. There was a father out there somewhere, someone who must be missing him dearly and looking for him.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> The next morning, he’d sat at the table pondering the same thing. There must be some way to reach his father, he must be close still, out there searching for him.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “Number Five, do not disillusion yourself with ideals of grandeur. You are here for a reason. You were undesirable, plain and simple.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Five stared down at his oatmeal, wondering if it could possibly be true. Maybe if his father met him, he’d change his mind. Maybe if he tried harder, maybe if he was a better kid, his dad would gladly take him.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> He took a bite of his cold breakfast, feeling suddenly very resolute. If he could just find his father, everything would be better. Maybe he’d never have to feel the prick of a needle again.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> That very night, exhausted from overusing his powers, he climbed out his window, the name Diego heavy in his head. He didn’t even know what his dad looked like but he thought seeing him would be enough. He’d recognize him if he just saw his face and surely he’d be recognized right back.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> His feet dropped to the ground as he let go of the fire escape ladder. It was dark outside, but nothing could deter him. The alleyway spat him out onto a sidewalk parallel to the street, so he took it, letting it lead him to wherever it thought he should go.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> His eyes were wide as he took in the buildings he passed. He’d never been this far from the house before, he’d never really been out of the house much at all. He passed a storefront with books in the window. He shoved his face into the glass, squishing his nose against it to read the titles. He jolted at the sudden feeling of a hand on his shoulder. Twisting around, he found a police officer staring down at him.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “Hi, kid.” The woman said with soft eyes and a gentle smile.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> He looked down the sidewalk, trying to find some way out. He didn’t have the energy to spatial jump.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “Whatcha doing out so late by yourself?” The police officer asked, crouching to stand closer to Five’s height.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “I’m looking for my dad.” He whispered, hugging himself.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “I’m Detective Patch.” She greeted, offering a hand out for him to take. “I can help you find him.”  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> He tentatively looked around once more before accepting the hand. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>He ended up at a police station, sitting in a chair at Detective Patch’s desk. She typed on a computer after asking him for his name. </em>
  <em>The officer smiled at him momentarily, before picking up a phone and dialing a number. She spoke hushed words into it for a few moments. Placing the phone back onto its receiver, she addressed Five once more.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “Your dad’s on his way.”  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Five had felt more excited than ever before, nervous energy building in his chest. And then, twenty minutes later, Reginald had stepped into the room with a fake smile and feigned relief in his words.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Five was dragged from the station with a bruising grasp on his shoulder. Not a single word was exchanged on the way home. But as soon as the front door was shut, Five was taught a lesson he’d never forget.  </em>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Diego lands on the floor of his old bedroom once more, boots loudly hitting the ground. He heads to the door, flicking the lock as he did yesterday. He hopes there isn’t someone with the power to phase through walls or someone with supersonic hearing, he’d be screwed. At that thought, he wonders if there's more than the five he'd seen leave the house yesterday. Fuck, are there more kids here? Or are they all adults? Are there others even stronger than the woman who flipped his car? He reaches for his knife tucked in his waistband, allowing himself to feel comforted by false promises. </p><p>He lets out a sigh, slipping his backpack strap off his shoulder and lowering it to the ground. He drops down onto Five’s bed, crossing his legs at his ankles. He rubs against the sling around his aching arm. He’s not sure when Five will return to his room, but he’s willing to wait however long it takes. He peers around his surroundings, searching for something to busy himself with. His eyes catch on Five’s books once again. He wants to peek through them more, but can’t bring himself to break the already practically non-existent trust Five has in him. </p><p>He closes his eyes, running through a list in his head. He’s never been much of a planner and at this point, he has a two step checklist and that’s about it. Get Five, get out. He lets his mind wander to where they’ll go, what they’ll do. </p><p>He’s not sure how much time has passed before he hears the sound of the door knob twisting. He jolts to a stand, grabbing the knife from his waistband and holding it out in front of him. The door knob suddenly stops jiggling and with a whoosh Five is in the room. </p><p>“Five?” Diego starts. He gasps at the sight of Five’s face, dropping his knife.  “Oh my God, what happened?”</p><p>He rushes over, reaching out to the kid. Five smacks his hand away, croaking, “Don’t touch me.”</p><p>“Sorry-uh-sorry.” Diego whispers, taking a small step back. </p><p>He scans the boy and he doesn’t like what he sees. He gulps, nauseousness and anger mixing in his stomach. “What hap-”</p><p>“What are you doing here?” Five cuts him off, voice rough and scratchy. “I told you, you can’t be here.”</p><p>“I promised you I’d be back.” Diego says softly, eyes catching on Five’s bloody lip, his swollen eye. “I keep my promises.”</p><p>Five stares at him with his good eye, looking more defeated than ever before. Diego has to force himself to turn away, reaching down into his backpack and pulling out his first-aid kit.</p><p>“Here,” Diego murmurs, keeping his voice low and gentle. “Let me fix you up.”</p><p>He steps forward, closer to the boy, resting the kit in his hand that peeks out of his sling, opening it with his other. </p><p>“I can do it myself, I’m not a child.” Five mutters, stepping past the man.</p><p>Diego wants to disagree, but keeps his mouth shut, offering a small nod in place of a response. He watches as Five reaches under his bed, pulling out his own old first aid kit. His heart aches at the sight.</p><p>“Do you-” Diego clears his throat, Adam’s apple bobbing. “Do you have to do this often?”</p><p>Five ignores him, busying himself with pulling an alcohol pad from the box. He rests on the edge of his bed, first-aid kit open on his lap. He digs through it, retrieving different items.</p><p>“I-uh-I want to get you out of here.”</p><p>Five’s hands still. He slowly looks up from his lap to Diego. </p><p>“I can take the tracker out.” Diego says, showing a plastic wrapped scalpel he’d bought from the store on the way here. “We did it once before.”</p><p>“Are you insane?” Five whisper-shouts, glaring at Diego for the suggestion. </p><p>“My car’s parked down the street, we can go somewhere west.” Diego offers, dropping the scalpel back into his open kit. “I don’t know- Montana, Wyoming? Somewhere so far away they’ll never think to look there.”</p><p>“What the hell are you talking about?” Five questions, focusing his attention back on the task at hand, busying himself with cleaning the wounds on his face.</p><p>Diego lowers the box back to his backpack for the time being, stopping to a stand in front of the kid. “I’m not leaving you here. I don’t give a shit about New York, New York sucks. I can probably find a better job wherever we go anyway.”</p><p>Five lets out a frustrated noise, dropping the dirty, bloodied wipe on his comforter and reaching for another. “‘We’? Diego, there is no ‘we’. I don’t even <em> know </em>you. I don’t trust you, I-I’m not gonna fall for whatever bullshit plot this is. I know the moment I step out of this house it happens again.”</p><p>Diego lowers his voice, momentarily glancing at the door and then back to Five. “What happens again?”</p><p>The boy huffs before hissing as he brushes over a particularly nasty bruise. “I’m not risking my life for make believe.”</p><p>“Look at yourself!” Diego half-yells, half-whispers, motioning to Five’s face. “Look at the way he treats you. You barely have a life here as it is!”</p><p>Five shakes his head, as if Diego couldn’t possibly understand what he means. “Even if you are telling the truth and for some reason have my best interest at heart - it doesn’t matter. Ten-if she just gets one look at me, tracker or not, it’s over.”</p><p>“Okay,” Diego says with a small lift of his shoulders. “Then I’ll get rid of her.”</p><p>“What?” Five almost shouts, before lowering his voice once more. “You <em> are </em> insane! There’s five of them, one of you. Guess who has powers? Not you!”</p><p>Five drops the used alcohol wipe next to the other, closing his kit and moving it off of his lap. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”</p><p>“I care about you, is that so impossible to believe?” Diego questions, disbelief in his tone as his eyes search Five’s bruised face.</p><p>“From the guy who abandoned me here for twelve years, yeah-yeah it is.”</p><p>“If I’d know about you… “ Diego trails off, the taste of bile at the back of his throat again. “I mean, come on? What kind of person would I be if I left you here with <em> him? </em>I told you the kind of shit I went through when I was a kid, do you really think I’d have left you here?”</p><p>“No<em> you </em> didn’t.” Five growls, standing from his bed and folding his arms across his chest. “I don’t <em> know </em>you. Get that through your thick skull.”</p><p>“Shit.” Diego curses, reaching up to roughly tug at his hair in frustration. “This is all so confusing. I mean, Five, please, we can share childhood trauma in the car. Just come with me.”</p><p>The kid stands tall, despite his injuries. </p><p>“I’m not going anywhere with you.” He says, chin tilted up.</p><p>Diego feels tears prick at his eyes. His lip twitches as he searches Five's defiant gaze, imploring the boy to trust him, just this once. “Five, I wanna help, please…”</p><p>They both jolt at the sound of a key in the door’s lock.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Pls let me know if there's a continuity error in here, I feel like I was halfway asleep through most of the writing of this so if I made a monumental mistake pls lmk.</p><p>Have you noticed that I use the same words over and over again? Why use more words when few words do trick, right? </p><p>Happy Holidays!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0012"><h2>12. Chapter 12</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Me: “hopefully the next update won’t take as long as the last”<br/>Me: has a week long trip in Tennessee where the power is out for multiple days bc of snow storm + has to pack to move out once home + working two jobs simultaneously<br/>Me: *is a clown*</p><p>My b y'all, my brain malfunctioned when I somehow thought this update would be faster than the last. Nonetheless, here it finally is. I do apologize for the length, these past two weeks have been crazy but I just wanted to get at least something out to you all.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Diego has a moment to heft his backpack over his shoulder and grab Five’s bicep before the door swings open. They’re feet from the closed window. </p><p>“Ah, just as I suspected.”</p><p>Diego stills, back rigid. He slowly turns, grip tightening. Flashes of the past, flashes of a car crash, flashes of a betrayal. He subconsciously pulls Five closer, breath caught in the back of his throat. </p><p>“I must admit I am surprised at you being able to pull something of this caliber off, although I suppose you had help, didn’t you?” Reginald questions, voice twisting in undeniable humor as he raises a brow at Five.</p><p>The boy flinches, attempting to wiggle out of Diego’s grasp. “No, no I didn’t- I didn’t help him.”</p><p>Reginald hums, reaching into his pocket as he steps forward. Diego takes a step back, Five following him despite his failed efforts to escape the hold around his arm. Diego ignores the squirming and small hand pushing at his chest, focus entirely on the man before him.</p><p>“Stay back.” He warns, knife cold in its position against his hip. </p><p>Reginald pulls an object from his jacket pocket. Diego recognizes it immediately as what Number Six had used against Five in the hotel. Time doesn’t grant him the chance to protest before Five is crashing to the ground, slipping out of Diego’s grasp, fingers clawing at the back of his neck and crying out. </p><p>“Stop!” Diego shouts, hesitating for a moment between crouching to help his kid and confronting his father.</p><p>He decides on the latter, running towards Reginald. He swings his arm but the man reaches out instantaneously, roughly grabbing his broken arm and twisting it. Diego howls, dropping to his knees. He hears Five croak something from somewhere behind him. Reginald knees him in the face, blood spurting from his not yet healed nose. He coughs, falling backwards, head hitting the wooden floor. His back rams into the items in his backpack. He moans, head pounding and vision blurry. His father crouches next to him, taking in his bloody nose and broken arm. </p><p>“You’ve always been a disappointment.” The man says, voice far from strained. </p><p>“Fuck you.” Diego spits. </p><p>He wants to say more, he wants to scream at his adopted father for keeping his child from him. He wants to punch him until he’s unrecognizable. But, he glances at the item still in Reginald’s hand instead. Thoughts of Five hurting consume him, locking the words he wishes he could say in the pit of his stomach. He pushes himself up with his unbroken arm, fingers scratching against the floor. </p><p>Reginald snorts, punching him once more. His head snaps to the side, blood flying. He defiantly turns back to face his father whose face twitches with almost concealed surprise. Diego stares back at him, jaw set, eyes steel, as his face exposes the rage he feels. The moment of slight shock on Reginald’s face disappears, eyebrow rising in challenge. He moves to punch Diego once more, but the hit doesn’t come. It doesn’t come because Five has spatial jumped on Reginald’s back, ripping the device from his hand and tossing it. The man stumbles up and backwards, slamming Five into the wall. </p><p>“Is this going according to plan, Number Five?” Reginald questions, smacking the boy’s head backwards. </p><p>He reaches over his shoulder, grabbing Five by the shirt and ripping him off his back, forcing him to the ground next to Diego. With slow, steady steps he grabs the device from the floor once more. </p><p>Diego pushes himself up slowly, arm aching fiercely, face twitching with blooming bruises. He doesn’t have a moment to consider what to do next before he’s outside, blinking against the setting sun. His stomach lurches and he coughs up bile. His heart races and his eyes are wild as he wipes his mouth with the back of his arm. He turns searching for his child. </p><p>“Five-?” He starts, eyes widening when he finds the boy on the ground next to him. </p><p>Five is crying out, face twisted in pain, fingers digging into the ground as his body trembles through electric shock. </p><p>“Shit! Five!” He scrambles across the ground, hovering over the kid. </p><p>“D-Diego,” Five sobs, tears streaming down his face. “Help me.” </p><p>He falls slack, back flat to the ground as tremors roll through his unconscious body. </p><p>“Fuck!” Diego shouts, ripping the bag from his back. </p><p>With shaking fingers, he tears the first aid kit open. He gently rolls Five, quickly getting to work. He follows what he’d done in the future, hands steady despite the anxiety bubbling in his chest. Blood drips as he opens the scar. He works fast but with a clinical kindness, trying to remove the tracker as quickly but as safely as possible. He finds it, pulling it out and tossing it to the grass. His eyes wildly scan his surroundings as he bandages Five. No one has found them yet, but he knows they don’t have much time. Five’s words ring through his head. </p><p>
  <em> “Ten-if she just gets one look at me, tracker or not, it’s over.” </em>
</p><p>His movements are hurried as he packs his bag back, slinging it over his shoulder. He pulls Five into his arms, holding him tight to his chest as he stands. His head spins, vision blurry momentarily. He stifles a pained moan as his heartbeat pounds through his broken arm. Gulping, he secures his grip and starts his hasty retreat to his car. </p><p>“Hey!” He hears shouted from the Academy. </p><p>He starts to run, heart beating loudly in his chest. It’s not the one with telekinesis, that’s all he knows, but whether she’s about to step outside or not is all that matters. He makes it to his car, setting Five down in the front seat, shakily buckling him and running to the other side. He jerkily shifts the car out of park, slamming his foot down on the gas. It peels out of the parking spot, tires squealing. He glances into his rearview mirror, feeling sick déjà vu. His throat is dry, palpitations in his chest, as his eyes glance between the mirror and the road. He begs any deity that may exist to let them escape. </p><p>He takes the first turn the road meets, losing the Academy House and hopefully it’s occupants along with it. He doesn’t raise his foot, keeping the petal pressed heavily. He glances at Five, quickly scanning his pale face, nervousness twisting his gut. His fingers tremble against the steering wheel as he casts his vision back to the road before them. </p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <b> <em>Present Day</em> </b>
</p><p> </p><p>Five languidly blinks. His teeth chatter as a shiver rolls down his spine. Brows knitted together in concentration, his eyes fall shut once more. </p><p>“Shut up, Klaus!”</p><p>Green eyes roll behind eyelids. Head lulls back. Doors open down the hallway.</p><p>“I’m just saying Benny-boy you’re acting coo-coo crazy. Breaking into Daddy Dearest’s secret lab in the middle of the night, I mean did you even tell Jill about all this?”</p><p>A shallow breath, a stutter of a heartbeat. Voices drawing closer.</p><p>“Shut <em> up </em>, Klaus. Jesus.”</p><p>Five gulps, eyelashes fluttering as he sluggishly blinks to the door opening.</p><p>“Holy shit, is that-”</p><p>Two blurry figures appear in the doorway, flooding light into the room. </p><p>“Oh my god.” Ben gasps. </p><p>Five swallows down the dryness in his throat, eyes rolling as he tries his damndest to remain conscious. </p><p>“D-Diego?” He mutters, voice broken and gravely. </p><p>“Fuck.” Ben curses, hand reaching out but falling flat at the boy’s flinch. “No, it’s-it’s Ben, Diego’s brother. ”</p><p>"What the hell is this?"</p><p>Five tries to blink over to the man standing behind Ben who’d seemingly just spoken. He can barely make him out. </p><p>"Fuck…” Ben whispers, eyes scanning Five’s restraints, his pale skin, his blue lips. “Fuck Klaus help me, he’s going into hypovolemic shock."</p><p>There are quick movements around the boy. Hands against his cold, sweaty skin. Fingers prodding at the cuffs around his hands. Touches against his neck, where a weak pulse stutters. </p><p>As the restraints are removed, he falls slack, limbs uncoordinated, body limp. He tilts forward, eyes rolling to the back of his head. He’s kept from falling out of his chair by Ben’s palm against his chest. </p><p>“Diego,” He moans, brows scrunching in concentration. </p><p>“I’m Ben, Five. Diego’s not here.” Ben attempts to remind him, face screwed up in concern. </p><p>“No…” Five murmurs, hand reaching out to fist in Ben’s shirt, eyes tightly shut. “Diego found me.”</p><p>The corner of his lip twitches upwards into an almost imperceptible smile. Ben falters, staring at the boy for a moment before forcing himself back to the present. </p><p>“Klaus, help me carry him, we need to get him help. Now.” </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>One thing that all Five's across all time have in common: trauma. :,,,,(</p><p>Question: Let’s take a poll, tell me your thoughts. How much comfort on the hurt/comfort scale are we thinking for this fic? I can write angst all day but if you want some serious comfort lmk and I’ll see what I can do.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0013"><h2>13. Chapter 13</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>*insert spongebob title card that says “One Month and Six Days Later”*<br/>Hi friends, just me popping in with a lil update. Apologies once more for the glacial speed and thank you’s to all of you for your patience!! You are all awesome and I appreciate you for sticking with this story! I’m thinking five or less chapters remain for this tale, but we shall see. Hope you all enjoy this update &amp; I am currently working on the next. </p>
<p>[ I need to reread everything i’ve written for this bad boy so far &amp; will likely include a summary in the next update as i’m sure anyone who has been following this from the start has forgotten things as i have lol ]</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em> <b>Present Day</b> </em>
</p>
<p>The incessant beeping forces Five’s eyebrows to draw close and his cheek to twitch. The best sleep he’s gotten in years, interrupted. He sighs as his eyelids flutter open. <em> Such is life.  </em></p>
<p>He blinks around the room, the pale blue walls, the white dresser, the spinning fan above him making his hair tickle his forehead. His eyes slant as they settle on the object of his annoyance. A heart monitor stationed next to a bag of fluids which is needled into his arm. He swallows, mouth parched. He doesn’t know where he is, but by the decorations of the room, he can’t even wish for it to be in some random hotel with Diego. Besides, Diego’s not <em> here </em> . At least, not in this current time. Or is he? Five blinks at the clock on the wall, its ticking reverberating through his skull. <em> Time. </em>Time is the current unknown variable, which is frightening, considering it was often the sole known. Time has always continued, regardless of his suffering, regardless of how he wishes he could send himself through it. And yet...it’s seemingly not as simple as he’d suspected. His memories are changing, altering as time passes. As if, he’s in another life entirely. He’d excuse it as some sort of trauma response, maybe a head injury, but it feels too real. There’s no haze around these new memories like there is around certain childhood ones. He reaches down, has half a mind to rip the needle right out of his arm. </p>
<p>“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” A gentle voice suggests. </p>
<p>Five flinches sharply, jumping forward in the bed, heartbeat racing. There’s someone standing in the doorway. He doesn’t recognize this man, not as one of the Umbrella Academy students, not as Diego’s brother. </p>
<p>“We haven’t met yet.” The man supplies, clearly catching Five’s frightened expression. “I’m Dave, Klaus’s husband.” </p>
<p>Five’s eyes dart from the man’s face to the window. He considers teleporting, although he isn’t quite sure he’d make it more than a few feet. Everything hurts right now, mind included.</p>
<p>“Who the hell is Klaus?” He grits out instead, despite not giving two shits who this man is or who he’s in relation to. </p>
<p>He’ll admit, only in the deepest recesses of his mind, he wishes Diego were here. At least it would be an unfamiliar place with a familiar person, a person he trusts, rather than an unfamiliar place paired with an unfamiliar face.</p>
<p>Dave slowly steps into the room, eyes fixated on the heart monitor. “I told them you probably wouldn’t remember. You went into hypovolemic shock, which means-”</p>
<p>“Blood loss, I’m well aware.” Five croaks, crossing his arms sharply. </p>
<p>“Right.” Dave whispers, awkwardly rubbing his hand against the back of his neck. He glances between the boy’s pale face and the beeping monitor. “Ben and Klaus found you. They mentioned...Diego?” </p>
<p>Five blinks, ever so slightly unwinding the tightness in his arms. Dave says Diego’s name like it’s the first he’s heard it. </p>
<p>“Bring me Ben.” Five demands, although his voice sounds that of a nervous child. </p>
<p>Dave nods gently, turning and leaving through the door. Five stares at the empty doorway, considers escaping. Perhaps Diego <em> is </em> here somewhere in this timeline. He just has to find him again. </p>
<p>This time he does rip the needle from his arm and pushes himself up from the bed. His vision wavers, black spots dancing across his vision. He groans, body aching sharply as he stands on two unsteady legs. </p>
<p>“Hey, you shouldn’t be up.”</p>
<p>Five glances over at Ben, who has replaced Dave in the doorway. He already regrets calling for the man. “Hypovolemic shock, I’m aware, don’t need the science lesson.”</p>
<p>“Then you’re <em> aware </em>how serious of a condition that is." Ben retorts, tone chiding, "You were out for days. If Dave wasn’t a-”</p>
<p>“Why don’t you just pretend I don’t exist like you do with Diego? We’ll all get along better that way.”</p>
<p>Ben’s mouth drops open and he stares back at the boy, startled. He inadvertently imitates a fish, mouth opening and closing, as he tries to find the words to reply. His face closes off as he processes the harsh words and is reminded of Diego and the one thing that keeps him up at night.  </p>
<p>“You could at least have the decency to be grateful we saved you.” He finally mutters, words low and lacking confidence. </p>
<p>“Grateful?” Five snarls, eyes angrily rolling. “You want me to be ‘grateful’? I’d have preferred you left me to die.”</p>
<p>All incoming spite dies on Ben’s tongue, his heart skipping to a stop and his eyes glazing. He remembers this feeling. The feeling of despair after hearing someone say those kind of words. He remembers when he answered that call from Klaus. It had been years since they'd talked. He remembers the chill, the ache in his chest, the acid burning up his throat. </p>
<p>Five sucks in a deep breath, his own words suddenly registering. His shoulders drop at the look on Diego’s brother’s face. He takes a seat on the edge of the bed, hands weakly falling to his lap. He stares at them, too unsettled to face Ben any longer. </p>
<p>“The only-” He whispers, voice thick with emotion. “-the one person I’ve ever...Diego’s gone. Maybe forever. I have <em> nothing </em> left.”</p>
<p>He moves his arms, elbows resting on his knees. He lowers his head to his hands. His face is warm, the chill of his palms is a small comfort. </p>
<p>"What do you mean Diego’s gone?" Ben questions, voice soft and defeated.</p>
<p>Five can feel the edge of the bed sinking and can hear Ben’s jacket rustle as he settles a foot away. </p>
<p>“I sent Diego back in time a full year.” Five mumbles into his hands, tightly shutting his eyes. </p>
<p>The bed jostles once more. Five can practically feel Ben’s confused gaze on his hidden face. He can hear the man’s mouth open for a moment before he speaks, his voice laced with growing exasperation. “What are you talking about?”</p>
<p>“He time traveled.” Five whispers, lowering his hands and straightening up.</p>
<p>He glances over at Ben, who unsurprisingly is staring back at him, in open disbelief. </p>
<p>“No.” Is all that the man offers, shaking his head and looking away from Five and towards the crown molding. </p>
<p>“Guess I shouldn’t be surprised you refuse to believe things even <em>you</em> have seen with your own eyes.” Five says harshly, snorting as he gives Ben an irritated once over. </p>
<p>The man’s eyes jump from the wall back to green, angry ones. He doesn’t get the chance to open his mouth, much less retort, before the boy is slamming his small palm down on Ben's chest. He sputters, blinks, and suddenly, he has returned to the doorway. His hands reach out, using the doorway to keep himself up right. He feels nauseous, his head spinning, legs weak. </p>
<p>“Did-did you just-” He sputters, eyes falling on Five who looks suspiciously smug for a child. </p>
<p>“I just sent you back a couple minutes.” The kid says, smugness evaporating as he seems to consider his own words. “That’s about the longest I’ve ever done...or it was, before Diego. Which is why I have no clue how exactly it affected him. I’ve never-I’ve never been able to practice my powers to a full extent, at least not my time traveling ones.”</p>
<p>Ben appears affronted by the entire conversation, heart still beating sharply in his chest. His eyes dart between Five’s. The boy continues, “Hargreeves always had a leash on me, only permitting me to use my powers when they benefited him. But Diego removed that leash, in a sense, and-”</p>
<p>Ben cuts him off, his brain finally catching up with everything he’s heard so far. “You don’t know what happened to Diego?”</p>
<p>“No, I have no clue. I presume he’s in the same universe rather than a parallel one as I had originally hypothesized, given the new memories that keep invading my brain.” Five begins, eyes falling from Ben down to the floor as he focuses on the thoughts plaguing his mind. “However, if he’s met the old me and so far, I've only gotten new memories for a couple days last year, that means he’s likely currently in the past, which logically also means he may never catch up. He could perpetually be in the past with a different version of me, if I am applying time progressions correctly. Time would constantly move forward for both him and I, our timelines forever separated. I might never see him again.”</p>
<p>Five takes a moment's breath, before continuing with his monologue, "On the contrary, if I am to attribute past experiences, however limited they may be, this would not be the case. I sent you back by a few minutes, but you instantaneously returned to the current timeline. Perhaps, it would work the same way with Diego. I sent him further back, so it would likely take longer for him to return. But, he will eventually. Maybe less than a year. Maybe a few weeks? I could probably chart out a graph with some time differentials..."</p>
<p>“Memories? Timelines? I-I don’t…” Ben whispers, shaking his head. He drops his grasp from the doorway, hands reaching up to roughly tug at his hair.</p>
<p>"He'll return eventually." Five repeats to himself, settling further onto the bed as he ponders everything he’s just pieced together.</p>
<p>Ben silently stares at Five, until the boy finally looks up moments later.</p>
<p>"This completely defies all time travel rules the universe has dictated for us thus far, I know.” Five whispers, shaking his head. “It shouldn’t be possible. But, Stephen Hawking can't always be right, can he?”</p>
<p>“You-you expect me to just believe all of this?” Ben questions, throwing his hands out as his eyebrows draw together in frustration. </p>
<p>It can't be possible. Ben refuses to believe any of this is real. It doesn't matter what happened in the driveway, it doesn't matter what happened moments ago. Because, if this is all real, then that means-</p>
<p>“You never believed Diego, so no, not really. But, to be quite honest, I don’t care. Even talking this out with an unwilling participant has helped immensely. This conversations is well appreciated.” </p>
<p>Five mock salutes from his seat and teleports. He lands just outside the house, knees crashing to the ground and breath knocked from his lungs. </p>
<p>“Fu-fuck.” He stutters, chill parading down his back. </p>
<p>He slams his fists into the dirt with a cry. His powers are zapped, along with his energy. </p>
<p>“Hey! What did Mother Nature ever do to you?” </p>
<p>He glances up, gaze murderous. A man with long, flowing hair and a flowery summer dress is kneeling feet away, gardening. Five quirks his brow as the man slowly pushes himself up from the dirt, removing his baby blue gloves as he stands. His knees and the bottom of his dress are stained dark. He lets his gloves drop to the ground and brushes his hands across his dress in failed attempts of cleaning the dirt.</p>
<p>“Ben must have been the one to make you run away.” The man tsks, continuing his unnecessary ministrations of brushing at stains. “I know it couldn’t have been my sweet, handsome husband.”</p>
<p>Five hums, ignoring the man and heavily pushing himself up. His legs tremble and black spots invade his vision once more. He feels moments away from collapsing. </p>
<p>“You should go inside, you went into hypo-something shock, according to both my brother and my husband.”</p>
<p>“The next person to bring up hypovolemic shock will be experiencing it firsthand.” Five snarls, although it lacks the intended heat. His head pounds in response to speaking. He crosses his arms in an attempt of staving off a shiver.</p>
<p>“Feisty.” The man whistles, approaching Five nonchalantly as if the boy hadn't just threatened him. Five glares at him, taking a shaky step backwards. The man holds his hands up placatingly, expression soft and unobtrusive. </p>
<p>“I know I’m not Diego,” He starts, crouching in front of the boy so they’re face to face, “But, I want to help.”</p>
<p>Five’s expression shifts microscopically into something more manageable, something less obvious to the fearful feelings inside. His fingers lessen their harsh grip against his biceps as he stares into the distance, past the man’s face. </p>
<p>“Can I help you walk? You’re shaking.” </p>
<p>Five doesn’t answer, reaching out to claw into the man’s arm instead. Not one wince passes the stranger's face, despite the merciless grip.  </p>
<p>“Your name’s Five, right? That’s a cool name. I’m Klaus, by the way.”</p>
<p>Loud words tumble out of the man’s mouth as Five takes stock of his surroundings and silently allows himself to be directed back towards the porch. Klaus’ words fade as new-old memories replay. </p>
<p>
  <em> “You should probably get that checked out.” </em>
</p>
<p>Five hears himself say. </p>
<p>
  <em> Diego’s heart stutters, mindless daydreaming coming to a halt. The first thing he notices is his fingers so tightly coiled around the steering wheel, they’re white and partly numb. The second is that Five’s awake and watching him like a hawk.  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> He glances at the boy then back to the road, words breathless as he utters them. “What are you talking about?” </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> “Your arm, it’s clearly broken. You shouldn’t be using a broken bone, it only makes it worse.” </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> My arm. Diego thinks. He’d forgotten entirely about it in the mad rush to escape. It hurts, sure, but he’s experienced plenty of broken bones in his lifetime. He’s learned how to tune out the pain. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> “I think you should worry about yourself.” Diego mutters, quickly cataloging the boy’s weary features.  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> “I’m fine.” Five snorts. His voice lowers as he turns to look out the passenger window. “I’m always fine.” </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> Diego gulps, blinking to the road, the rear-view mirror, the side door mirror, back to the road again. He’s more than a little anxious. This failed stupendously last time, who’s to say it won’t again? Who’s to say there isn’t some other hidden microchip somewhere tracking them? Who’s to say he doesn’t have one himself?  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> “I guess I should thank you.”  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> Diego’s mind falls blank once more at the sound of Five’s voice. “Thank me?” </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> “For uh-for saving me back there.” Five whispers, wincing as he touches the bandage on his neck.  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> Diego clears his throat, stiffly shrugging. “It’s the least I could do, all things considered.” </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> “All things considered.” Five repeats, throat suddenly dry. “All those years, you really never knew?” </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> “Really.” Diego chokes out, voice thick with emotion.  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> Five hums, scanning Diego’s face for a moment before looking away. “What’s the plan?” </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> “There’s not one.” </em>
</p>
<p>Five grimaces as he’s pulled out of his memories and back to the present. Klaus and Ben are arguing in another room. He’s sat at a kitchen table. When did he sit down? He doesn’t remember. He glances around the kitchen, Dave is nowhere to be seen. He allows himself to lean further into his chair, back not quite as rigid as moments before. His mind devolves to where he left off, Diego’s unsurprising lack of planning.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>anyone else despise "at least" being two words as much as I do?</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
</body>
</html>